You're just so pretty in your pain
by Muffinsama
Summary: They had started a game of love, sex and humiliation, like a twisted round of chess in which both players tried to turn their opponent into one of their pawns. Abusive!Shiki/Izaya, Shizaya.
1. Chapter 1

_Prompt from the durarara! kinkmeme:_

_Izaya is involved in an abusive relationship and Shizuo can't stand the "fucking flea" being mistreated like that even if it's him._  
><em>- please make it as IC as possible; the guy (higher up mafia guy?) has leverage over Izaya that makes resistance impossible<em>  
><em>- Izaya is ashamed of his situation and would rather DIE than reveal what's happening to him. Bit by bit Shizu-chan noticed that the numerous wounds are not just caused by their fights.<em>  
><em>- slow development is slow<em>

_Posting this story here because it was requested and because Livejournal is getting screwier with each day._

* * *

><p>The sun was shining, birds chirped innocently, despite there not being that many trees around, and Orihara Izaya felt like everything in his environment was trying to laugh at him and mock him for his current state.<p>

With sweaty palms, he smoothed down his slightly torn shirt, before closing the zipper of his favorite jacket to hide the bruises littering his neck and the purpleish bitemarks on his collarbone and chest.

He was a mess, and he knew it. Usually, he wasn't left in this state. Sometimes, he was even shown enough mercy to be dropped off at his apartment after the 'meetings', or at least allowed to take a shower to wash away blood and other fluids, to give him at least some kind of semblance of relief.

Not so this time. With a snickering laugh, he had been shoved out the door to the Awakusu-kai base and left out on the street.

The sun was burning every inch of him and his already sweaty hair began to dampen again. The dull throbbing in his skull evolved to a fullblown headache because of the sun's blinding light, and he felt tingling waves of nausea ripple through his stomach.

Cynicism always had his back, and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth, albeit weak.

Using the hand he could still move somewhat properly without it feeling like the limb itself was going to fall off, he wiped his face, making sure to get rid of the crusted blood, which had dried messily from his nostrils down to his chin.

After he decided he looked somewhat decent, so that his beloved humans wouldn't have to worry about him, or try to attack him now that they thought he was weakened, he tried his best to walk without limping.

Some of the people passing by shot him curious looks of recognition. Many of his dear humans were interested in him, almost as much as he was fascinated by them. The usual crowds that might have looked like a dull gray mass of people to anyone else, faceless and uninteresting, consisted of so many fascinating individuals to him, he would have liked to have the time, and energy, to talk to and see through all of them. Another reason that made him so desperate for immortality.

Pushing his useful hand into the pocket of his jacket, he pulled out his cellphone, looking through a few text messages waiting to the read and answered. Maybe he was just trying to distract himself, but he pushed the thought back, because he was not like the humans around him, who needed to distract themselves from unpleasant events to block them out.

Then again, denial was another thing humans were so very good at, and so prone to doing.


	2. Chapter 2

One of the text messages caught his eye, simply because he knew the number it came from by heart, without even having to look at the contact's name to recognize who it was from.

_Hey, Iza-nii, Heiwajima-san said he would let us meet Yuhei-san if we managed to make you kill yourself in front of him. Since you stood me and Kuru-nee up on dinner last week, this would be the perfect chance to redeem yourself, don't you think? The one and only, Orihara Mairu._

And yes, in a way, that stung. More than the cuts and bruises littering his body. And it bothered him even more to know that Mairu and Kururi seemed so dead serious about this too.

Sometimes he wondered, what exactly they would do if he really did as they seemed to wish and killed himself.

He granted himself only a few seconds to dwell on this, before he inwardly shook his head. He was no victim here, the girls had their reasons to think lowly of him.

And he would never ever let them know that said day last week, a gun had been pressed to his temple, forcing him to follow a dark figure into a black car, which took him to one of the Awakusu-kai's bases, from where he had been incapable of leaving for well over two days.

It was worrying, how the intervals between those meetings grew shorter and shorter.

"-won't kill you. Promise! Just try once. Sushi good for you-" Simon's voice was both comforting, as it was alerting. Comforting, because Izaya had been practically locked up for three days and hadn't been able to contact anyone he knew, and alerting, because this meant he had to put up his best facades. The russian man knew him and, although Izaya didn't like to admit it, could see through him to a certain degree.

"I-za-ya." The Russian overpronounced his name and waved at him.

"Yo." Izaya greeted, a soft smile on his face, that hurt his lips.

"Come to eat sushi? Sushi good for you!" Simon's horrible Japanese was ridiculous, but Izaya found it less amusing today.

"Aw, I'm kinda busy. Maybe next time." He answered.

"Ran out of soy sauce today. Use mayonaise instead to flavor sushi. Sure you don't want to try?"

"No, thanks." Merely thinking about food made his stomach turn. Swallowing a few times, his face briefly contorted, before he managed to look the tall man in the face again.

Simon frowned slightly, and Izaya immediately knew that the Russian had noticed his change in expression.

"You're very thin, Izaya, you have to take better care of yourself." The change in language was something Izaya had anticipated just as much as what Simon had to say.

"I've always been thin, I just have a fast metabolism." He contered in fluent Russian.

Simon leaned down to be on eyelevel with him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Izaya winced just barely, his eyebrows twitching. It just so happened that he had a pretty painful burn on the shoulder Simon had decided to touch.

"Are you in pain?" The russian man frowned in concern, pulling his hand away, and Izaya kept himself from showing any sign of surprise or alarm. He was starting to feel even more queasy.

"Huh? Of course not, what makes you think something like that?" Izaya feigned ignorance and smiled playfully. Simon didn't seem completely convinced.

"You move differently than usual. I know pain when I see it, and you look like some kind of beat up kitten." Simon looked so convinced, he even crossed his muscled arms before his chest.

Izaya wasn't too sure whether he should laugh or frown at the whole 'kitten' metaphor.

"You worry too much." Izaya concluded in Russian before switching back to Japanese and therefore gaining somewhat of an advantage over Simon. "Gotta go now. I have tons of things to do today."

It took a few seconds for Simon to reach the conclusion that maybe it was best if he didn't concern himself with whatever was wrong with the informant.

"Come for sushi soon, okay?" he asked in his broken Japanese.

"Sure, sure. Bye-biiiii~" With a last wave, Izaya walked away, his smile falling slowly. He felt Simon's stare on his back until he had turned right the next corner.


	3. Chapter 3

Frowning just slightly, he increased his pace, ignoring the way his legs and back stung and ached in protest. The pressure in his stomach was getting worse, and there was an increasingly sour taste in his mouth.

Entering one of the dark side alleys, he hid in the shadow cast by two huge buildings. With one hand, he held onto the wall before him as he took deep, shuddering breaths, hoping the waves of nausea would subside.

Maybe he had been hit in the stomach a couple of times too often in the last couple of hours. Then again, maybe the way his head had been slammed into the wall repeatedly was to blame for the sick feeling seizing his body.

He refused to think that maybe he was just disgusted with the way hands had touched him with very intention of hurting him, while deriving pleasure from his pain. He was above any kind of traumatization any normal human might have suffered from such treatment.

Spitting sour saliva onto the pavement he waited, trying to recall when he had last had a normal meal, although thinking about food was probably not the best idea.

He was so busy trying to get a grip of himself, that he didn't notice just where he had decided to take a break.

Trust a few sprains and scratches to completely nullify his capability of observing his surroundings.

A completely inconspicious wooden door was situated a few meters away from him, leading into a staircase, which led to a small debt collection agency, which employed one Heiwajima Shizuo who, purely by coincidence, had decided to take his smoking break right now.

Izaya had neither noticed the door's existence, nor realized that it had opened to reveal his tall, blond haired enemy.

It took Shizuo a few seconds to fully process what he saw. The louse was hunched over, seeking support from the wall in front of him while breathing raggedly.

"IZAYAAAA!" The anger came as a natural reaction to seeing the dark haired information broker, who looked up in shock.

"Shizu-chan?" Izaya gasped out, genuine surprise written all over his very pale face.

Shizuo was already looking for something heavy to throw but to the informant's luck there was no vending machine within a ten meter radius.

Instead, Shizuo was tearing the door out of its hinges, several veins throbbing on his forehead while the informant couldn't really seem to move.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...FUCK!_ The informant chanted to himself in his head, while his tired legs made him stumble backwards, his agility shot to hell.

He managed to exit the dark alley, bumping into several people while he moved out onto the street. A slightly trembling hand dove into his pocket to grab his knive only to find that it was not there.

"I TOLD YOU TO FUCKING STAY OUT OF IKEBUKURO, LOUUUUSE!" Shizuo had followed him with heavy steps, for once not having trouble keeping up with Izaya.

Negotiating with the monster was out of the question, especially when he was ready to throw something at him.


	4. Chapter 4

Izaya turned around abruptly and tried to put as much distance between himself and the ex bartender as possible with the way his body was protesting.

He saw a shadow approach him quickly from behind and the dark wooden door just barely brushed his burnt shoulder, making him wince as he swallowed the pained groan trying to escape his lips.

The debt collector easily caught up to him and grabbed him by the furry hood of his jacket as though he weighed nothing. The pedestrians around them watched the one sided fight silently, wondering why the informant wasn't defending himself, or why he had even been caught.

Izaya inwardly laughed at his horribly bad luck. So much for trying to hide that something was wrong with him. He would have to thank Shizu-chan for that some time. With a switchblade to the chest obviously.

That was all he could think about, before he was crashed into the wall of some shop or another, the dull impact making blood gather beneath the skin on the side of his head, until it couldn't withstand the pressure anymore and burst. Blood ran down the side of his face in thicks rivulets from a wound somewhere hidden underneath his hair.

He crumbled to the ground in a seemingly boneless heap while colors shone brightly before his eyes, the pain making him feel the urge to just curl up and hope it wouldn't get any worse.

But he was Orihara Izaya, respected as one of the most dangerous and powerful men in all of Tokyo. He had a repuation to lose, and through willpower and stubbornness alone, he managed to stand up shakily.

"Aww, Shizu-chan, that's not the nicest way to greet someone. It usually starts with a handshake and a friendly hello." He felt ready to puke from the pain alone. His eyes focused and unfocused on Shizuo's face, and there were several dark blotches obstructing his vision.

"Shut up!" Shizuo growled like the animal he truly was, and surprisingly didn't grab another heavy item to hit him with. Apparently even a stupid brute like him had noticed that there was something different about Izaya.

"Then again, in the cave you originated from, throwing heavy items at someone was probably a way of displaying affection." Despite the smile on his face, his voice was rather breathy.

He was almost satisfied when Shizuo grabbed a stop sign and swung it, irate at the mere implication that he might feel anything but pure hatred for the informant. That was always the easiest way of making the debt collector angry.

And pissing of Shizu-chan was what his normal self was busy with whenever they met, so that was all he could do to try to feign normality, lest his beloved humans thought he had somehow gone weak and stopped respecting and fearing him.

The stop sign came closer before he could even try to escape. Its angry red color was approaching his face quickly and he could almost feel it breaking his nose and cheekbones already when it was suddenly stopped by a black, almost shadowy substance.


	5. Chapter 5

"Celty?" Shizuo said incredulously, recognizing the dark material as part of the shadows flowing out of her neck when she wasn't wearing her helmet.

Izaya's knees almost gave out and he barely managed not to fall by leaning his back against the wall. He looked almost relaxed like that, even though he was incredibly anxious, the stabbing pain in his limbs and the throbbing in his head causing all his muscles to tense.

[That's enough, Shizuo. Don't waste your energy on him.] She wrote, making sure that only Shizuo saw it.

Then she turned to Izaya, scrutinizing him before starting to type on her ever present PDA.

[Are you alright?]

"Peachy." The informant said, not finding the strength to muster up one of his perfectly convincing false smiles.

"What are you doing here, Celty?" Shizuo asked, his anger subsiding almost instantly although he shot Izaya an infuriated look. "And why are you siding with that flea?"

[I'm not siding with him. I simply don't want anyone to get killed.]

"I fucking finally had him!" Shizuo grunted, clenching his fists.

Celty typed some kind of placating reply Izaya didn't manage to read that made Shizuo look at him closely. He used the time Shizuo and Celty were busy 'talking' to stand up straight again before sluggishly turning, walking a few steps like a drunk person.

"Well, I'm off! I would have liked to play with Shizu-chan for a bit longer, but unfortunately I have other things to do." Like discreetly slipping into some other alleyway to puke, go home and take a long shower before going to bed. "So long!"

With a wave of his good hand, he dragged his feet away.

He had barely taken two shaky steps when Celty's shadow wrapped around one of his wrists, the one that was tinted a very dark shade of blue from the shackles that had been capturing him only a few hours ago, and pulled him back.

There were a few surprised and horrified shrieks coming from the crowd that was slowly gathering around them.

He winced and looked at Celty questioningly, while smoke filled his nostrils from the cigarette Shizuo had lit to calm himself down. He shuddered unconsciously.

The blond was staring at Izaya intensely, a dissatisfied frown on his face. Whatever Celty had told him seemed to keep him from murdering the informant though, for now at least.

[You're not going anywhere like that!] Celty insisted, forming a helmet out of her shadow to the innocent bystanders' shock, and handing it to him.

She went to get her motorbike, while he slipped the helmet over his head, trying not to touch the fresh wound on his scalp.

[Shinra can take a look at your wounds. Hop on! I'll give you a ride.]

Izaya frowned to himself. How had she noticed that he had more wounds than the one Shizuo had just inflicted on him that easily?

"...thanks." he muttered and climbed onto the motorcycle, letting her grab his arms to wrap them around her midriff.


	6. Chapter 6

"Celty!" Shinra's sing song voice greeted them, although his happy demeanor faltered upon seeing that the informant was with her. He had probably hoped for some alone time with his girlfriend. "What are you doing here, Orihara-kun?"

The question was answered by the blood drying on the side of his face and staining his jacket.

Trying his best not to show that walking hurt him immensely, Izaya entered the underground doctor's apartment, the world around him spinning with every step he took.

"I have some business to take care off." He muttered weakly, pushing past the doctor before stumbling into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

Shinra looked at Celty questioningly, who was already typing some kind of reply when they were both interrupted by the distinctive sounds of Izaya violently throwing up.

A few minutes later the coughing and retching from inside the washroom had silenced, and Shinra dared to softly knock.

"Are you okay in there, Izaya?" A weak cough answered him and he heard the sound of running water. "Izaya?"

The door unlocked and Izaya leaned against the door frame heavily. Although his face had regained a little color, mostly due to the effort of emptying his stomach, he looked completely drained. Water dripped from his face from his attempts to clean the wound on his head.

"Much better." He sighed, wiping some of the water with the sleeve of his jacket, which he hadn't removed.

"Sit down, you can barely stand." Shinra instructed and steadied Izaya, who was limping even worse than before without realizing, until the informant let himself drop onto the couch.

"What the hell happened to you?" Shinra asked accusingly. Why did Izaya have to get hurt when Celty had promised him this morning that she would take the afternoon off so they could take a long, warm bath together?

Izaya, sensing this, grinned both teasingly and apologetically, which wasn't a good combination.

"Didn't mean to be a cockblock." He said, amused by the light blush on Shinra's cheeks. "Blame it on Shizu-chan."

The unlicensed doctor had already put on a pair of rubber gloves and was pulling at the blood matted hair above the laceration.

"You mean Shizuo-kun did this to you?" A sharp burning sensation told Izaya that Shinra was disinfecting the split skin.

"As if him attempting to crack open my skull is a surprise to you. He's tried that more than once." The informant leaned back slightly. After spending well over five minutes puking up blood and bile at least the crushing nausea had subsided, making him feel infinitely better.

"That's not what I meant." Shinra was across the room, searching through his suitcase filled with medical equiptment.


	7. Chapter 7

"Huh?" Izaya tilted his head with a confused look on his face.

Shinra came back with some ointment and bandages. Although Izaya had close to no medical expertise, he had achieved a basic knowledge of the body and how to perform first aid. Therefore he knew that those bandages couldn't possibly be meant for the laceration above his ear, unless Shinra intended to wrap his entire head.

"Take of your jacket and shirt." Shinra demanded and was already squeezing some of the ointment onto a large band aid.

Izaya froze completely while the doctor was back to rummaging through his bag, muttering some medical terms to himself.

"What are you talking about?" Izaya inquired, not so much as lifting a finger to do as his old friend had told him.

Shinra raised his head, surprised to find Izaya still fully clothed. He retrieved a pack of pills, probably pain killers, and approached Izaya.

"I want to treat your other wounds." Shinra said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Izaya frowned uneasily. Since when was everyone so damn perceptive? Or rather, since when did he fail so badly at hiding his injuries?

"I don't recall you ever having a problem with undressing in front of anyone." Shinra scoffed, all too aware of Izaya's sexual promiscuity. The informant was popular and whenever he was propostioned he rarely said no. Of course Shinra didn't approve of that, being the hopeless romantic that he was. Izaya had simply explained that he loved humans too much to reject them when they requested something from him.

"Other wounds?" Izaya repeated without paying attention to his friend criticizing his private life, a look of complete confusion on his delicate features. "What other wounds?"

Shinra almost gaped at his reply. "Well, your other injuries? There's gotta be a reason why you don't move your right arm at all. And from the way you're limping I'd say there's something wrong with your hips. I need to take a look at that, too."

It was the informant's turn to gape in disbelief, although it was mostly an act. Of course he knew what Shinra was talking about, but he couldn't let the underground doctor see those injuries.

Not with the hand shaped bruises on his slim hips, his boxers soggy with his blood and other bodily fluids and the torture marks all over his upper body practically screaming 'RAPE!'. Shinra, who was an experienced underground physician, would immediately recognize all those characteristics and put two and two together.

The nausea he had thought he was rid off came back with full force and he paled considerably, his breath quickening as he shuddered.


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm fine, there's nothing else for you to treat." Izaya said weakly, feeling slightly dizzy as his heartrate and blood pressure skyrocketed in fear of being found out.

"What are you talking about? It's obvious you're hurt pretty badly. Maybe your concussion is making you delusional." Shinra rubbed his chin thoughtfully and looked at him with honest concern darkening his otherwise young looking face.

"Concussion? Well, I guess that's to be expected after Shizu-chan knocked my head against that wall. Remind me to get him fired from his current job for that...or maybe I could frame him again...ahahaha...Shizu-chan going to jail would be so epic."

By now Izaya was talking more to himself than to Shinra. The physician watched the random fit of craziness Izaya seemed to be having, which wasn't all that unnormal for him and, unbeknownst to Shinra, was perfectly staged to both distract him and convince him that Izaya was perfectly fine.

"Ahahaha...This is Shizu-chan, he was a prison bitch..." The information broker imitated some low, scratchy voice Shinra didn't recognize and giggled hysterically.

"I wonder what the scouter would say about Shizu-chan's powerlevel...it's probably OVER 9000!"

Shinra sighed wordlessly and began to put the medical equipment back into the bag while Izaya was humming something that sounded a lot like the 'Ghost Busters' theme.

"Well, since you seem to be doing better I guess there really is nothing more I can do for you now. Take two of these pills after you eat, they might make you sick if you take them on an empty stomach." Shinra gave him a pack of 'Ibuprofen'. "It'll also help keep your _wounds_" he deliberately used the plural form "from getting infected."

"Yes, Sir!" Izaya made some military salute, moving less fluently than usual.

"I'll call you a cab. There's no way you're walking home right now. Once you get home please rest and don't move around too much. Your concussion is mild so you should be fine by tomorrow but there's no need to take unnecessary risks. And if anything's wrong, you know my number."

Izaya had the fleeting suspicion that his concussion wasn't actually as mild as Shinra made it sound because of how much it affected his vision, but he didn't argue.

"Namie is a doctor, too, so I'll just have her check up on me. Maybe she'll take pity on me and refrain from trying to poison me today." Izaya said cheerfully and Shinra felt the urge to bury his face in his hands.

Shinra guided him out the door with an exceedingly happy smile. Izaya knew that he was glad to be rid of him.

"Well, I'll send you the money tomorrow. Same bank account as usual, right?" Izaya asked redudantly. Shinra nodded.

"Get better soon, okay? I'll see you around." Shinra's hand was already on the doorknob.

"Yeah. Bye-biii~." After a last wave of goodbye the heavy door fell closed and Izaya's smile immediately vanished, a pained gasp leaving his lips. He pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and as far into his face as possible, before limping to the elevator and exiting the building shortly after.

The sun had begun to set already. Another day in freedom wasted.


	9. Chapter 9

"Where the hell have you been?" a shrill voice greeted Izaya upon entering his home.

"No no no, you've got it all wrong, Namie. It's _okaeri nasai_... So _tadaima _I guess." Izaya dropped his keys onto the table and took of his shoes and nothing else.

"_Okaeri_, where the hell have you been?" Namie was sitting at the kitchen counter, apparently in the middle of eating a rather early dinner. The newspaper lay next to her plate.

"Shiki-san is so attached to me lately, don't you think? He kept me busy for three days."

"Hard to believe that anyone could stand your company for that long." Namie said with all seriousness. Then again, Izaya was completely convinced that this woman had no sense of humor at all.

"Well, for someone like him it would be highly unprofessional to let personal aversion get in the way of his work. Whether he hates my guts or not is irrelevant as long as I do my job to his _satisfaction_." Izaya purposely left his words ambiguous. He liked throwing hints and watch no one but him catch them.

Namie's eyebrows twitched at the implication that she was unprofessional for expressing her resentment for him so openly. She didn't question what exactly had taken Izaya three days to do for the Awakusu-kai executive, but her assumptions were somewhere along the lines of him researching a couple of drug dealers who refused to be controlled by the yakuza.

Izaya had a tiny apartment in Ikebukuro and she just assumed he had slept there because he was too busy to come back to Shinjuku. But he could have slept in a dumpster for all she cared.

She turned back to the newspaper, a grim look on her face. While listening to his steps she refused to look up, although she heard that he was putting more weight on one leg than on the other.

"Ah, before I forget to mention it, I have a concussion, so would you be a dear and wake me up every few hours and check up on me?" Izaya said this as nonchalantly as someone would talk about the weather.

Namie almost dropped the plate she had been meaning to put into the dishwasher.

"You're telling me that now?" she seethed. Not because she was shocked about her employer getting injured but because she had promised Seiji to do his homework tonight.

"Is it inconvenient for you? I'm sure whatever you had in mind of doing can wait until I'm sure I won't die of cerebral hemorrhage in my sleep. Think about it, I can't pay you when I'm dead."

"On the contrary, when you're dead I can just take all of your money and leave." Despite her words Namie had already opened her purse which, for some alien reason, contained the most basic medical equipment, which also included a small medical torch, with which she could check the informant's pupil's reaction to light.

"Ah, I'm afraid you're not in my will. If I died, all of my money would go directly to my sisters. You'd have to sleep with me at least once more to inherit anything at all." He grinned at her blush while she grumbled something about 'stupid mistakes' and 'manipulative bastards'. Despite all the pain trying to pull him down this was still fun.

He vanished into the bathroom without another word and shortly after she heard the sound of water running.


	10. Chapter 10

_I'm so sorry Seiji, but I won't make it back home today. Izaya is making me stay. Much love, your sis._

She flipped her cellphone shut frustratedly and waited for her employer to finish taking a shower. Maybe she should have told him that it would have been a lot better for his head if he went straight to bed, but she figured that a little pain might just teach him a lesson.

She had to admit that sometimes his attitude amused her just slightly. And his intelligence both intersted and intimidated her. But that didn't change anything about the fact that she very much disliked him. The only think acceptable about him was that knew what he was doing most of the time, she had to give him that, and sometimes his plans were too convoluted even for her to understand.

Still, the childishly innocent facade he hid behind to make people understimate him and his natural charm which he manipulated so many with were just sickening. Not that she hadn't fallen for his flirty attitude and ambiguous propositions once or twice...or a couple of more times than that.

Her phone vibrated, breaking her train of thoughts.

_Don't worry, I can understand if you want to spend the night with your boyfriend. I'd never get in the way of love. Seiji._

She almost crushed the phone between her fingers as she held it tightly, her hand trembling with anger.

_He's NOT my boyfriend, I just work for him—_She stopped, realizing that no matter what she wrote, it would sound like she was Izaya's personal whore.

Some time ago Izaya had told her that Seiji was much more likely to develop any kind of interest in her, if she didn't cater to his every whim and acted as if there was someone more important to her than him.

If he felt like he wasn't the most important person in her life anymore he might start to miss having her around all the time and start to fight for her attention and affection, at least according to the informant. And consequently, he had manipulated her into sleeping with him with those words.

With his strange advice still in mind she decided not to answer Seiji's text message and to act as if she hadn't even noticed it in case he asked tomorrow morning.

Feeling almost like a child caught stealing candy, she looked up when the bathroom door opened to reveal the informant, hair still wet, already wearing what appeared to be his sleeping attire.

She raised a delicate, dark brown eyebrow at the oversized gray hoody covering his upper body only serving to emphasize how slim he really was. The black shorts hung low on his narrow hips looking ready to just fall off, and she tried not to think about whether he was wearing underwear beneath those.

"You wear socks to sleep?" she asked, not because she was curious but because she wanted him to realize just how odd his choice of clothing was. Then again, she wouldn't have been surprised if a guy like him slept in the nude.

"I get cold easily." He said, looking down at his white socks while one of his hands untangled his wet, dark hair. It was actually the fact that the socks covered the red and blue bruises on his ankles that had made him decide to wear them, but the lie was barely noticeable when told by a talented liar like him. And he really did get cold easily.

"Well, I'm going to sleep." He announced, strolling towards his bedroom.

"I'll come wake you up in two hours!" she warned and he simply waved his hand as a sign that he had heard her.

The door closed behind him and he was encased in silence that both relaxed him and made his heart flutter with uncertainty. With slow steps he approached his bed, his room glowing with the light of the city all around him.

His back hurt in a bittersweet way as his muscles relaxed upon lying down which only served to remind him of how much he needed a good night's sleep.

Curling up on his side, he let his eyes drift closed, breathing in the smell of detergent and shampoo coming from his pillow which calmed him and soothed his pounding head with its freshness.

Just as he was about to drift into sleep, the phone on the desk next to his bed began to vibrate. It startled him back into awareness as if someone had spilled cold water onto his face.

Blindy, he fumbled for the device with every intention of turning it off without reading the message, but curiousity got the better of him.

_I hope I didn't ask too much of you the last couple of days. I will contact you when I need your services again. Shiki._

Izaya hated the way his heart skipped a beat before speeding up dramatically. The message was insulting and didn't sound like Shiki was at all concerned, but Izaya knew that the fact that Shiki had contacted him at all showed that he, to some degree, cared.

It also served to remind Izaya of Shiki's inescapable presence and the familiar urge to run, run far away and hide made his legs tingle while Izaya frowned sulkily, feeling betrayed by his cowardice getting the better of him.

With a stern press of his left index finger he switched the phone off and put it back onto the desk quickly, as if it was going to poison him if he held it in his hand any longer.

Then he turned back onto his side and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady and deep as he forced himself to give in to the shadows dancing behind his closed eyelids.

When Namie woke him a couple of hours later he was ripped out of a nightmare consisting of nothing but the feeling of being unable to move, unable to defend himself. Completely without control.


	11. Chapter 11

He woke to the odd sensation of something pinching and pulling at his toes.

"What the fuck—" He was blinded by broad daylight for a few moments upon opening his eyes, and he suddenly realized the small weight resting on his stomach.

"Language, Iza-nii." The grinning face looking down at him was most definitely Mairu's. And she had taken a comfortable seat on his lower stomach, straddling him.

"Morning...(Good morning.)" A small voice said from the foot of the bed. He waited for a second, until his sight was less blury. Kururi was looking at him with innocent, chocolate brown eyes, while she continued to pull at his clothed toes.

"Kururi, really? I never realized you had a foot fetish." Mairu's laughter was almost shrill, while the other twin didn't react much, except for letting go of his foot. "And would you mind getting off of me, Mairu?"

"Really now, Iza-nii, first you confront us with vulgar language and then you crack sex jokes? Corrupting your poor, innocent little sisters like that is unacceptibe, just unacceptible." She simply ignored his request, and waved her index finger in front of his face, her grin widening, when it made him go slightly cross eyed.

"Ah, well my 'poor, innocent little sisters' as you put it, should first explain how they managed to get into my apartment. And don't think I don't know it was you who stole from my magazine collection."

"Pictures...nice...(The pictures were nice.)" Kururi contributed.

"You looked at those? Now, Kururi, you know those are adult magazines, right? They're not meant for people under 18." Not that Izaya really thought looking at a few naked women was going to kill those two.

"As if you didn't read those magazines when you were under 18. And we didn't break in, if that's what you think." Mairu's smile turned even more mischievous. "Yagiri-san let us in, actually."

"Nice...(She's a nice woman.)" Izaya chuckled at just how wrong Kururi was about Yagiri Namie.

"She really is nice. I wonder just how _nice _she was to Iza-nii last night." The louder twin had a look of contemplation on her face, while her brother shook his head.

"You've got it all wrong." Izaya moved to sit up, but Mairu refused to get off of his lap. "You're starting to get heavy, Mairu, get off." It was more the fact that she was sitting on one of his bruises that made him so adamant about her getting up.

"And now he's encouraging me to become anorexic. Watch it, Iza-nii, I'm in a position where I could easily turn you into Iza-nee." She laughed and he could only cringe at the obvious threat to his private parts. "I guess we can consider ourselves lucky that we at least didn't catch the two of you in the act."

"Mairu...hygiene...(Get off of the bed, Mairu, it's unhygienic.)" Kururi commented, not completely oblivious to the way he twitched at her remark.

"Hmm, it's rather comfortable here." Mairu argued, settling her full weight onto Izaya's stomach. He almost yelped in pain.

"Not to mention how easily this situation could be misunderstood if anyone was to see you on top of me like that." His abdominal muscles contracted and ached offendedly, as he sat up, grabbing Mairu beneath her armpits and lifting her off. His right hand started to hurt immediately.

"By the way, since you apparently had something better to do when you promised to meet us last week, we're kidnapping you for today." Mairu announced, throwing one of her brown pigtails over her shoulder with a playful jerk of her head. Kururi nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry about last week. Something came up." He got up, running the fingers of his left hand through his hair.

"Yeah, sure." Mairu waved her hand dismissively. She was used to his excuses. "Come on, let's go eat lunch!"

"What time is it?" The informant asked absently, while he searched for his clothing. He felt rather dizzy, and his head throbbed dully.

"Almost 11. We've been waiting for you to wake up for two hours." Mairu cleaned her glasses while Izaya opened his closet to pull out fresh clothes.

"Izaya nii-sama...pretty...(Izaya nii-sama looked very pretty asleep.)" Kururi wore a soft smile, the kind she always displayed when she thought something was cute.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd take that as a compliment." Izaya commented.

"Nii-sama...pretty...awake...(Nii-sama is pretty when he's awake, too.)" Mairu hugged Kururi tightly and kept one arm slung over her narrow shoulders.

"I have to agree. Now, Iza-nii, be a good boy and strip for us." Izaya's eyes widened slightly at the odd request.

"You're my sisters, I'm not gonna-"

"We'll even provide you with music. See—" Kururi began to clap rythmically, while Mairu sang/spoke in her rather shrill voice "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt so sexy it huuuurts...this is where you're supposed to take off your shirt, Iza-nii."

The twins' older brother was out of the room in less than second. The two girls only heard the bathroom door slam shut.


	12. Chapter 12

His heart beat furiously, even while the calming silence of his bathroom made him feel safe. He could hear Mairu's laughter even through the heavy door.

Now, he could feel just how badly every part of his body ached, after forcing himself to move that quickly.

Something about their prepubertal immaturity, and their resulting extreme interest in sex, made him feel cornered. Maybe because they tried to stick their noses into his sex life, and if they really managed to find out just what was being done to him, or what he let others do to him — the thought made him so nervous, that a rather familiar nausea settled in his stomach heavily.

Slowly, he peeled off the gray hoodie and opened the button of his dark shorts, which made them immediately surrender to gravity, as they gathered around his ankles in a heap of black fabric. It transfixed him for a moment, to watch them fall so easily, so gracelessly, with no way to get back up without help—

"And now I'm angsting over clothing and comparing myself to it. I'm going fucking crazy." He muttered to himself, as he stepped out of his pants and moved towards the long mirror, completely naked except for his socks.

He bent down with difficulty and pulled them off, throwing them in some random corner, before catching his own eyes in the mirror.

As expected, he looked like hell, at least from his neck down to his knees. He could only count himself lucky that his face had been spared. But for the few inches that had been left unharmed, the rest of his body had suffered tenfold.

Running a finger along the edges of the bright red burn on his shoulder, he winced and his face contorted in a way he himself had never actually witnessed. It burned without being touched, even now, that the fabric of his clothes didn't rub against it anymore, and the skin was a lot warmer than the rest of his body.

Red marks littered his chest, most of them shallow, but painful cuts, some bitemarks, a blue bruise on his ribcage, that made him pretty sure a few of his ribs were broken.

He didn't feel like looking at the purple haematomata on his hips and thighs, convinced that it would kill any kind of composure he could still hold on to.

Turning around, he took a look at his back, where welts crisscrossed his skin, standing out red and swollen against the rest of his pale skin.

With a last look at the bruises on his wrists and ankles, he turned away and put on the dark boxers he had blindly pulled out of his closet earlier.

He was in the middle of putting on his shirt, when a knock made him stop.

"Iza-nii? What's taking you so long?" He rolled his eyes. Couldn't he even get 5 fucking minutes of privacy to pull himself together enough to be able to make it through the day?!

"You're not jacking off in there, are you?" Well, he should have expected a question like that. These were his sisters, after all.

"I'm not!" he felt the need to clarify, as he finished dressing, before he unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out, only to be practically tackled by none other than Kururi, who wrapped her arms around his waist and didn't let go. Slightly hesitantly, he patted her head and stroked her spiky yet soft, brown hair.

"Let's go go gooo!" Mairu yelled hysterically, already wearing her shoes and coat, while Izaya, with Kururi still stubbornly attached to him, made his way to get his own shoes, grabbing the jacket that matched Mairu's and giving it to Kururi, who let go of him only long enough to put it on.


	13. Chapter 13

"How much longer do we have waaaaaalk!" Mairu complained, from several steps ahead of her twin sister and her older brother.

Despite telling her siblings again and again, that walking was way too exhausting, she was walking way faster than Kururi, who still clutched Izaya's midriff in a tight grip, so that she was walking sideways with every step, barely managing to let her head rest on Izaya's shoulder because of the difference in height.

It wasn't that Izaya was tall, actually, compared to Shizuo, he really was flea sized, but his sisters were still growing, and they had no chance to ever catching up to his size. Unless someone chopped off his head in the near future, of course.

"Why don't you have a car, Iza-nii?! You're in Ikebukuro so often, you can't tell me you walk there each and every time." Mairu was looking over her shoulder.

"I'm not a big fan of being stuck in traffic. Besides, I'm considerably faster when I choose my own routes." Which involved a lot of acrobatic parkour moves and jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

"Kind of strange that you spent money on getting a driver's license, but didn't buy a car. You have the necessary money, don't you? So how about you buy a nice car and come pick us up from school occasionally?"

"Maybe." Izaya said nonchalantly.

"Oh come on, how much longer do we have to walk?!" Mairu was back to ranting after his dismissive reply.

"Quit complaining, we're almost there." Izaya was mildly annoyed. There were only a few people who could get under his skin enough, in order to irritate him, but his sisters were definitely two of them.

And besides, Mairu was prefectly healthy and didn't have to prevent herself from crying out in pain every step, so she had nothing to bitch about.

He was actually so concentrated on hiding the pain he was in, that his effort showed on his face occasionally, and Kururi was already looking at him curiously, which indicated that she had noticed.

It made him feel more uncomfortable, especially since her head was dangerously close to the burn on his shoulder, which was throbbing painfully along with his heart. In a sense, even her touch, her embrace made him feel trapped. But it was probably just the fact that he was being touched at all, since lately he was only being touched with the intention of hurting him.

He shuddered and inwardly shook off those thought, but not soon enough to fight off the queasy feeling in his stomach, that made his limbs feel weak and immobile.

"Hey, we're there! I can see Simon." And truthfully, Izaya could see Simon's ridiculous hat in the mass of dyed heads of hair. Probably because Simon was about half a meter taller than the average Japanese man and stood out.

"I-za-ya!" The tall Russian seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "Nice meet you so soon. Feeling better today?"

Izaya felt two sets of identical brown eyes on him, as he grinned and waved off the question about his well being. "Well, I promised to come here some time soon. I even brought these two."

Simon looked at the two girls. First at Mairu who was standing next to Izaya and then at Kururi, who was still holding onto him.

"Always knew Orihara-san was popular, but two girlfriends at the same time...not good." Izaya laughed. It sounded odd to hear Simon say his name so politely while lecturing him.

"They're my sisters." Izaya said hurriedly, before Mairu could even start to think it would be funny to let Simon think that Kururi and her were Izaya's girlfriends. If he didn't need something right now, it was rumors about relationships he might be engaging in.

"Do look alike, actually. Hair color isn't the same, though." Simon said, rubbing his chin, as he compared the twin's soft brown and Izaya's pitch black hair. "Meeting family is good. Follow me, will show you nice seat."


	14. Chapter 14

Izaya nodded and looked around before slipping into the restaurant, just to make sure Shizuo wasn't around, in which case it would have been a bad idea to enter a building because of the lack of space to escape.

"What you want to eat?" Simon asked with a broad smile at the three of them. Mairu was studying the menu, before ordering something.

"Same...( I'll take the same, please.)" Kururi said, while Mairu folded the menu and put it aside. Even while sitting at the counter, Kururi's thin arms were wrapped around Izaya. He was pretty sure that she expected him to try to run away as soon as she let go.

Izaya felt Simon's expectant look on him, sighed and contemplated what to get for a moment.

"I'm not hungry." He concluded and Simon's expression darkened accusingly. Izaya didn't add anything else.

"Need to eat, Izaya, get thinner otherwise." Simon said. Izaya felt Kururi nod slightly in agreement. Mairu was watching with a disturbingly interested look on her face.

"It's really not healthy to skip lunch. It's the most important meal of the day. You should eat something, Izaya." Simon said in Russian this time, earning confused looks from the twins.

"I always thought breakfast was supposed to be the most important meal of the day. And I'm not hungry because I just ate breakfast." Izaya turned towards his sister, deeming this conversation over, in time to observe their equally surprised faces. He was glad Mairu and Kururi didn't understand what he'd said, or else they would have revealed that he was lying.

"Fine, fine." Simon said and left the table, probably to go back outside and advertise/scare the crap out of the people around him.

"Woah, Iza-nii. I never knew you spoke...what was that just now?" Mairu asked, unable to mask how impressed she was.

"Russian. I learned it a couple of years ago, just for the heck of it. It proved to be useful because a lot of my clients have business partners in Russia."

"Ah, no fair. I wish I could learn more languages." Mairu sighed and looked a lot like Izaya when faking grief.

Her brother wasn't paying much attention, as he kept on looking over his shoulder. He couldn't get rid of the feeling that he was being watched. It unsettled his mind and his stomach.

"Wrong...?...(What's wrong?)" Kururi, who had observed his nervousness, asked with concern in her eyes.

"Is it just me, or are we being watched?" he asked, lowering his voice so that only his sisters would hear. Kururi nodded silently. Mairu flashed him a creepy grin.

"You noticed, huh?" Her voice was just as loud as ever, and he almost felt like silencing her forcefully. Apparently, she didn't sense the danger. "That hot chick over there has been oggling you the whole time. You make me so jealous, Iza-nii."

Izaya, who had somehow expected something along the lines of assassins waiting to finish him off, or even worse, Shiki's underlings waiting to take him with them, looked at her in confusion.

Then he laughed, as relief washed over him. He suddenly felt paranoid and couldn't help but find it funny that he had surrendered to such a human emotion. Pathetic.


	15. Chapter 15

After lunch, his sisters forced him to talk to the woman who, at some point, inconspiciously slipped him a note with her cellphone number and excused herself, but not without giving him a hug that would have made a 13 year old wonder if he'd just lost his virginity.

What was up with her hand on his belt in the middle of a crowded restaurant? He doubted he'd call her in the near future, or at all.

Mairu was still laughing, even after he had paid for their lunch and they had left russia sushi, at the grim face he sported.

"Thank...meal. (Thank you for paying for the meal.)" Kururi, who had reattached herself to his stomach, said quietly. He managed to smile at her, while petting her head fondly. Sometimes it wasn't really hard to pick who of the twins he liked better, although that was probably unfair.

Mairu giggled, holding her stomach. She was only amused because he had been so obviously uncomfortable.

"Seriously. First you complain about my private life, and then you try to hook me up with random people. You must really hate me." He smiled through clenched teeth, looking as if he had been forced to drink something incredibly bitter. Only that he felt like his heart had just been filled with bitterness.

Mairu continued giggling, her laughter sounding cruel to him. Usually, he wouldn't have cared about what she thought as much as he did now, but ever since he had gotten up, he had felt worse and worse with every second, and it made him strangely sentimental.

He felt Kururi's warm arms clench around him, as she dug her face into his shoulder, thankfully the uninjured one. The gesture was so kind, he felt himself smile shakily, as the arm he had wound around her tightened its grip slightly in affection.

Kururi always had been a sweet hearted girl, and she had always been good at emphasizing with other people. For a brief moment, he worried that she could feel his loneliness.

They ended up taking a cab back to his place. Surprisingly, because Kururi had insisted on driving to Shinjuku. Izaya tried to make himself believe that it wasn't because she had noticed that walking was causing him pain.

"TV!" Mairu exclaimed happily, as soon as they had entered his apartment. She kicked off her shoes and they collided with the wall with a dull thud, while she had already jumped onto the couch and pressed a couple of keys on the remote. "Hurry, Kururi, Kimi ni Todoke is on!"

Kururi hastily took off her jacket and followed her sister, leaving behind her big brother in the hallway, who grumbled something about coffee and rubbed his eyes.

While Izaya was busy making coffee in the kitchen, he didn't pay attention to the sounds coming from the TV.

"Hey, Iza-nii, commercial's over. Come watch this show with us. It's so cute and funny." Mairu shouted.

"What kind of show is that anyways?" he asked, while he made his way to the couch with a cup of black coffee. He set the mug down and sat down on the couch between Kururi and Mairu.

"It's about this girl called Sawako, who was always avoided by her classmates because she looks like a character from a horror movie, but then this amazing guy talks to her and she totally falls in love with him and he helps her make friends, it's so-"

"I should have figured you'd watch hentai anime." Izaya sighed, sipping coffee. Mairu seemed appalled.

"No way, hentai anime isn't on before 10 PM-" Mairu was once again interrupted by her brother.

"-I'm not going to ask just how you know that-"

"and kimi ni todoke is the most innocent anime about love there is." Kururi nodded in agreement. "It's because Iza-nii's mind is always in the gutter that he thinks the two of us spend all our free time watching porn."

"Quiet...( Be quiet, it's starting.)" Kururi muttered as some wishy-washy opening song started to play. Izaya instantly hated the show.

After about an hour of watching some dark haired chick, who incidentally really did look like the girl from 'The Ring', stumble over her words, as if she didn't even know her own native language, and almost dying from the fluffly sweet friendship speeches, Izaya began drifting off, no amount of coffee being able to cure his exhaustion.

At some point he just couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, and his head dropped onto Kururi's shoulder, who was too comfortable and warm to make him want to get up and go to his bedroom.

He thought he heard Kururi wish him a good night, not with her hushed voice, but in a steady tone, laced with an affection he knew he was imagining or hoping to be there.


	16. Chapter 16

Clouds of smoke floated above a blond head of hair, as the tall man leaned against the guardrail of one of the less used roads near the city's center.

Right next to him, on the other side of the guard rail, stood a pitch black motorbike, its rider sitting on it lazily.

"Simon said that flea was in Ikebukuro yesterday. Too bad I wasn't there...would've killed him this time." The nicotine and smoke that filled his mouth tasted very bitter when thinking about the dark haired informant.

[I saw him together with two girls.]

"Oh really?" Shizuo asked, not particularily intersted, as he smoked quietly. Just thinking about the fucking flea made him feel sick to the stomach with anger.

[Yes. Those two girls looked very similar. Kind of like sisters.]

"Probably Mairu and Kururi." The debt collector in a bartender suit concluded. If Celty had been capable of pulling a questioning expression, she would have. It was impossible though, because of her obvious lack of a head. "Did one of them have long pigtails and wear glasses?"

[You know them?!]

"Yeah. They're the worthless flea's sisters. Always want to know stuff about Kasuka and constantly annoy me. They're not nearly as bad as the louse, though."

[I never knew he actually had anyone he cared about.]

Shizuo shook his head upon reading the message. "Nah, he doesn't care about his sisters either. He's a flea, he can't care about anyone."

[I don't know about that. I just don't understand him, to be honest.]

"Damn louse is always planning some screwed up shit. Fucking hate him."

[Still, you got him pretty badly two days ago. Shinra was almost worried.]

"Eh? I hadn't even begun beating him up before you stopped me. You should have just let me kill him." A sour expression crossed the blond's face.

[I'm sorry. He just didn't seem capable of defending himself. He was no match for you like that.]

"He did seem slower than usual. Such an opportunity is rare." Shizuo gritted his teeth slightly. Although he had been the one to start talking about the flea, he wanted nothing but to forget about the brunet for now.

[I wonder what happened.] Celty wrote hesitantly. It was mere curiosity that made her think about it.

"As long as it involves the louse getting beat up, I'm all for. Even though I'd much rather kick his scrawny ass myself." Shizuo sighed, standing up fully, after putting out another cigarette butt with the sole of his shoe. "Gotta go now. Tom-san's probably waiting already."

[It was nice talking to you. Do you want to come over for dinner today?...You know, to make up for helping Izaya.]

He chuckled and closed soft brown eyes hidden behind blue sunglasses.

"Sounds fine to me. But you have nothing to make up for. It's not your fault that you're too good hearted for your own good." With this half compliment, Shizuo left with a last wave, before shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants.


	17. Chapter 17

"...hello." Orihara Izaya said in a scratchy voice, after being woken up by his furiously ringing cell phone some time before noon.

"Hello, Informant-san." Izaya's blood ran cold immediately upon hearing the familiar cold voice greeting him formally. The cellphone almost slipped out of his quickly perspirating hands, as alarm bells rang in his brain.

"How can I be of service to you again so soon, Shiki-san?" The name slipped off his tongue so easily, so familiarly, and the affection that sneaked its way into his voice left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"It seems the time you require to recover is getting longer." It wasn't a taunt, it was a statement. An offending statement at that, because it was clearly meant to accuse the informant of being weak. "I need you to keep an eye on someone for me."

"Who would that be?" Izaya asked matter of factly, pushing back both the feeling of resentment and sickening fondness.

"I think there might be an undercover cop among my subordinates. I have reason to believe that someone is giving away information to the police about our dealings with the yakuza."

"I'm guessing you already have someone in mind." The young informant deduced.

"I do. I will send you a picture and more detailed information via text message, because I don't know if our base has been tapped. Follow him around and observe his activities. Research anyone he comes into contact with. Report back to me when you're done." Shiki ordered, emotionlessly, before hanging up.

The informant got up, fighting vertigo once again, as he walked towards his kitchen, filling a glass with water and downing it. His throat felt, as though he had swallowed vast amounts of sand paper.

Opening the fridge, the cold air flowing out of it soothed his scalding skin, and it was when he started to shiver with cold despite sweating, that he realized he had a fever.

He ran a shaky hand over his face, wiping away salty water and looked at it with glassy, red brown eyes.

"...well shit." He spoke to himself, glimpsing at his phone when it started to virbate. He had already slept away a good portion of the day, and laying down on the sofa, or better yet, going to bed, sounded so very tempting.

But, should he try making his health a priority over Shiki's order? Should he really risk having Shiki remind him that he expected there to be nothing more important in Izaya's life other than the Awakusu-kai executive himself?

What would Shiki have in store as punishment for such disloyalty?

He closed the refrigerator, having lost any kind of appetite, before grabbing his trademark jacket and leaving his apartment with unsure steps.

He didn't know whether he obeyed out of fondness, or fear. Either way, he was disgusted with himself.


	18. Chapter 18

He couldn't use his normal route to Ikebukuro. Parkour was absolutely impossible with at least two broken ribs and bruised ankles.

Although it had been roughly a week since he had last ran and jumped uninhibitedly, he already missed the wind's refreshing tickle on his skin, the exhilarating feeling of jumping from one rooftop to the next, gravity trying vainly to pull him down to harshly meet the ground beneath him.

His mobility, his flexibility had given him a sense of freedom and control. But, as Shiki liked to teach him over and over again, it was the very fact that he seemed to value control and freedom so much, that made people wish to take it away from him.

Arriving at the outskirts of Ikebukuro, he tried to focus his hazy eyes onto the screen of his phone, colors and characters blurring into an undecipherable jumble of blacks and whites.

He didn't hate Shiki. Even as he strained himself to walk normally, he couldn't bring himself to resent the man. And, for once, it was not condescending pity that led him to feel this way. Because he had done something to Shiki the older man would most likely never forgive him.

There was also a sense of awe that filled Izaya whenever he met the Awakusu-kai boss, whom he knew since he had still been in highschool. And it wasn't the kind of admiration that blossomed within him whenever he saw humans do their daily routine and struggle with hardships fate or coincidence, or whatever dictated their lives, threw at them.

No, it was genuine awe, the kind a small child would feel upon first seeing a very talented acrobat.

With Shiki, he had met one of the few human beings, who seemed unreachable to him. He was unpredictable, although over the time Izaya had known him, he had developed an understanding of Shiki's intentions.

Unfortunately, the same went for Shiki, who had, to some degree, managed to gain an insight into Izaya.

And so they had started their game of love and sex and humiliation, like a twisted round of chess, in which both players tried to turn their opponent into one of their pawns.

They had both lost many things during this power struggle, enough to hate each other forever, and yet it was because they couldn't hate each other, that they lost them in the first place.

Small raindrops started to fall from the sky, and for a moment, Izaya had completely forgotten, where he was, or what he was doing.

Besides those heavy thoughts, the increasing pain in his right shoulder was the only thing that had registered in his feverish mind up until now.

His shoulder was throbbing, and a stabbing pain made it impossible to move his entire right arm. He tried pushing the sensation into the background, so that it only followed every step, every rub of his shirt over the injured skin, like an annoying song that was persistently stuck in his head.

Trying to block out his increasingly incoherent thoughts, he tried to focus on the task he had come here for, namely spying on one of the Awakusu-kai's members to find out, whether he was in contact with the police, or even an underground cop.

With the rain droplets cooling his heated skin, he made a promise to himself, to take care of the wound on his shoulder once he was done with his job, and started his search.


	19. Chapter 19

It took no more than an hour to find the man he had been looking for, which surprised Izaya, given the size of Ikebukuro alone.

But then again, Ikebukuro seemed rather small, considering that Izaya ran into Shizuo practically each time he was in this part of the city. Well, maybe the fact that Izaya made it a habit to walk past the blond's workplace and apartment building was to blame for that.

If someone ever asked Izaya, why he liked bothering Heiwajima Shizuo so much, he would obviously say that it was because he hated that man.

But, on closer inspection, Izaya would have to admit, that, while he hoped getting the bodyguard angry would someday lead him to have a fatal heartattack, it was also the fact that no one acknowledged Izaya's existence quite as much as Shizuo did.

Of course this was something he would never admit to anyone, and he would blame these thoughts he was having on the fact that he was walking through the rain with a fever that kept on increasing, and a burnt shoulder he figured must have gotten infected.

As he followed his target down the street at his own, sluggishly slow pace, he fought to keep his thoughts straight, trying to concentrate on the rain slowly soaking his skin, instead of the way his vision kept on blurring and unfocusing.

The dark figure in front of him made a sudden, unexpected turn, and Izaya realized that he had actually been pretty lost, when he was surprised to be standing in front of the police station, which Shiki's subordinate had just entered.

He sighed in relief. This case was solved, obviously. An Awakusu-kai member did not randomly walk into the police station to say hi.

Izaya was immensely glad that this job was practically done. All he had to do now, was gather some tangible evidence to make the result of his spying mission believable, and he could report back to Shiki, which was an entirely different problem on its own.

Turning around, he found that the world was upside down.

He froze, swallowing the lump that had begun to form in his throat, because everything was spinning around him and with every step he took, it only got worse and worse.

For a short moment, he just stood there, with the rain beating down heavily, and the fever continuing to screw with his head.

_Get help. Go see a doctor!_, was what he told himself, once he registered how utterly helpless he was.

Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, while keeping his right arm completely still, because whenever it was moved even slightly, he had to keep in a pained groan, he dialled...and misdialled, because his hands were shaking too much, and checking his cellphone's integrated phone book was virtually impossible.

From what little of his surroundings he recognized despite the fever, he could tell that Shinra's apartment wasn't too far.

With heavy steps, he dragged himself onwards, hoping he wouldn't just collapse on the street.


	20. Chapter 20

"...and he ended up having to borrow shorts from the girl's gym teacher."

Celty and Shizuo both laughed at Shinra's story about some bully burning Izaya's gym shorts in middle school.

They had finished dinner, which Shizuo had bought at russia sushi, since neither of them could actually cook, and were now sitting at the table, chatting, enjoying the comfort of being with friends, when suddenly, the door bell rang.

"I'll get that." Shinra said, getting up with an apologetic smile, wondering who exactly would come to his house at 10 PM.

It couldn't be Shiki-san, because he was the only person besides Celty and Shinra himself, who had a key to this apartment.

He opened the door, which swung inwards, only for a dark haired figure, who apparently had been leaning against the door for support, to fall forwards and right into Shinra's arms.

The underground doctor could barely hold his balance, and held on to the door knob for dear life, a quiet gasp coming from the creature leaning against him now, instead of the door.

Shinra let go of the doorknob and put his hand on the damp fabric of a jacket clad shoulder, soft white fur tickling him, which caused the person in front of him to clamp a hand over their mouth and cry out in pain.

"I...Izaya. What are you doing here?" Shinra said, immediately recognizing the voice, while the informant tried his best to stand by himself, opening hazy reddish brown eyes.

"Is that the only way you'll ever greet me?" Izaya muttered, stubbornly clinging to his snarky demeanor, even while he clearly had trouble keeping his eyes focused on the doctor.

"Hello, Orihara-kun." Shinra said, unable to muster up enough politeness to sound at least a little cheeful, as he looked over his shoulder anxiously, waiting for Shizuo to see Izaya and go on a rampage, which would most likely destroy his and his beloved Celty's home.

"I'm not getting in the way of you losing your virginity again, am I?" Izaya slurred, while he wiped water and sweat from his slightly flushed face with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Are you drunk, Orihara-kun?" Shinra asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose both in interest and slight irritation.

Izaya looked at him for a short moment, eyes glazed over, looking completely inebriated. And then he laughed in that psychotic way of his, only backing up Shinra's suspicion that the informant was either drunk, or stoned out of his mind.

He was silenced by a refrigerator hitting him dead on with a painful sounding _clank_. Courtesy of Shizuo, who stood in the door frame across the room, breathing heavily and several veins starting to show on his forehead and even his cheeks.

This time, Izaya actually yelled in pain, strings of curses in all kinds of languages leaving his mouth, while he rolled out from under the heavy object and curled up slightly, burying his face in his left forearm, while holding his breath as the agony assaulted him.

Celty, who stood behind Shizuo, stopped the debt collector from ripping one of the doors out of its hinges to hit the dark haired man with it, while Shinra approached Shizuo's target, now thoroughly curious.

"Izaya, are you alright?" he asked, crouching down to inspect the brunet.

"Are you trying to fucking mock me, Shinra?" Izaya snapped, all his polite, charming facades crumbling under the intense pain he was feeling. "If you're so curious, maybe Shizu-chan should throw a fucking refrigerator at _you_, so you can experience it first hand."

For a brief moment, they all froze, never having seen Izaya actually getting angry.

Usually, he never showed anger, because he didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that they had gotten under his skin, but right now, he just couldn't pretend anymore, blinding pain racing through every cell of his body.

Izaya tried to catch his breath, while he uncovered his face, peering up at them, his eyes glistening with anger, pain and distrust.

The informant's cheeks were flushed slightly, and his messy damp hair hung into his symmetric face, lips glistening with blood, because he had bitten his tongue to distract himself from the pain.

For a short moment, Shizuo froze, when those eyes made contact with his, and he didn't know what to feel, or what to think.

"Fucking louse." Shizuo commented, once the weird feeling had passed, looking at the pathetic heap of a person, blaming it on the fact that he hadn't expected anything like this to happen, that he didn't feel satisfaction from seeing the dark haired man in pain.

"So what _are_ you here for, Izaya?" Shinra asked, turning the informant's attention to him.

"I need-" Izaya tried to stand up, only for his limbs to fold back together, like a house of cards hit by the wind.

Shinra reached out a hand and helped him up, careful not to touch the shoulder that caused Izaya pain. The doctor's eyes widened upon grasping Izaya's scalding hot skin.

"Izaya, you're burning up."


	21. Chapter 21

"No shit, , that's why I'm here to begin with." Despite resting practically all of his weight on Shinra, Izaya was still being so rude, that the doctor considered dropping him, but only for a second.

Pain brought out the worst in people, and even Izaya seemed fazed by it, which, in some twisted way, was almost endearing, because it confirmed that the informant really was human.

"Quit your bitching, flea, or I'll smash your teeth in." Shizuo grumbled, clenching his hands into tight fists, while trying to keep in mind that one, Shinra's apartment would suffer considerable damage if he lost control of his anger, and two, the flea was already injured to begin with.

Kicking his ass now that he was weakened, could not only be considered an unfair victory, it was also the kind of sneaky crap scum like Izaya did. He simply refused to drop to that level, no matter how much the louse pissed him off.

Izaya ignored Shizuo's threat, not even sparing him a glance, as Shinra led him to the living room couch. Somehow, that angered Shizuo even more, than some stupid comment the louse might have thrown at him usually.

"So, what's wrong Izaya? Where does it hurt?" Shinra asked almost affectionately, which earned him a frown from Izaya, who sat on the couch.

"Someone has switched to pediatrics over night, huh? Well, it would make sense, with all the crazy kids out there bashing each other's heads in." Izaya rambled, his voice sounding clearer.

"Get to the point, Orihara-kun." Shinra said, setting the medical kit down onto the coffee table.

"Yeah. The quicker he's done with you, the faster you'll vanish from my sight, louse." Was Shizuo's comment, which was once again not paid attention to by said 'louse'.

"My shoulder's infected. I need some antibiotics." Izaya stated, ignoring the angry growl coming from the tall blond man, who was leaning against the wall a few meters away.

"How long has it been infected?" Shinra asked, cocking his head to the side slightly, as he remembered the last time he had treated Izaya, which was a couple of days ago, and recalled the man's reluctance to show him his wounds.

_Well, that's what you get for not letting me treat you._ Shinra inwardly sighed.

"I don't know, two to three days, I can't really tell." The informant answered, his brow slightly furrowed with tension, due to the fact that Shizuo was still in the room, and pain.

"Three days?!" Shinra choked out, which caused Izaya to look at him. "You know that you can get blood poisoning from such infections. Judging by the fever, I'd say you already do."

"Oh, come on, quit acting like you care." Izaya mumbled, so that Shinra barely caught it. A snapping sound in the background told him that Shizuo _had_ heard it, and had let his anger out on some object.

"Shinra, if this bastard keeps on talking, I'm going to kill him for sure." Shizuo said almost casually, as if Izaya wasn't even here, and he was talking to Shinra about something completely trivial.

"Why the hell are _you_ even here, troglodyte." Izaya countered, talking to the debt collector directly for the first time.

"Watch what you say, _Izaya-kun_." Shizuo snarled, which caused a poisonous smile to form on Izaya's lips.

"Aww, Shizu-chan is pretending to know what a troglodyte is. How cute~" Shinra half waited for Izaya to spit venom at them, because his smile looked so disgustingly misleading, and his voice had gained a sickeningly sweet tone.

"You fucking bastard!" Shizuo moved rather quickly. In a flash, he had grabbed Izaya by the collar of his jacket and yanked him forwards.

Izaya's smile was replaced by a pained expression, but he kept his eyes open despite the burning pain in his shoulder, and looked up into the blond's face.

"Shinra should just let you die from blood poisoning. He'd do everyone a favor." Shizuo said icily, before throwing Izaya back onto the couch and backing away, his breathing heavy.

Izaya was quiet for a moment, contemplating. Soon, he would have to go back to Shiki to report the results of his research, and considering what was most likely to happen there, he really did think dying might be an almost merciful option.

A bitter look snuck itsself onto Izaya's face, without his permission, or realization, the slight lowering of his head admitting defeat for him.


	22. Chapter 22

Shinra cleared his throat when the silence became stifling, trying to figure out what to make of Izaya being speechless for the first time, since the doctor had known him.

There was something undeniably depressing about seeing the informant so bare, without his sharp comments there to protect him.

A side glance at Shizuo told the underground doctor, that the blond man was positively confused by Izaya's silence, and even more so by the fact, that maybe his words had gotten to the informant.

"Well then, let me take a look at your shoulder, Izaya." Shinra said cheerfully, clapping his hands together, as if he could cut through the uncomfortable silence that hung in the room.

Izaya looked up at him suddenly, visibly fighting to regain the slice of composure he had lost, while trying to push down the shock filling him anew.

"There's no need for that." Izaya said hesitantly, sitting as stiff as a statue. Red brown eyes flitted towards the door and back. "Just give me the meds and I'll leave."

"I can't do that. I need to determine how much the infection has advanced. If you have blood poisoning, there's no way you can just take a few pills and walk away as though nothing happened." Shinra lectured, once again surprised at Izaya's strange behavior when it came to letting him examine his wounds.

Shizuo seemed to notice that something was off, because he raised an eyebrow while curiously looking back and forth between the doctor and the informant, while Shinra approached Izaya, who seemed to lean back into the couch to get away.

"Shinra, seriously, there's no need for you to take a look. I just need some antibiotics and I'll be fine." Shizuo was sure he imagined the slight trembling in the dark haired man's voice.

"This doesn't make sense, Orihara-kun. You won't let me look at your wound, yet you obviously have no problem with sleeping with anyone who looks at you twice."

It was common knowledge, that Izaya slept around, even Shizuo, who usually didn't listen to gossip or anything of the kind, knew that.

"...slutty louse..." Shizuo grumbled in the background, although the biting undertone in his voice was missing.

"Shizu-chan's just jealous because he's not getting any. Sexual frustration even explains his anger issues." Izaya commented, watching Shizuo grit his teeth, ready to smash something. Preferrably the louse's skull. "It's probably Shizu-chan's secret wish to see me naked, so he has something to jack off to tonight."

"_My only wish is to see you in pain._" Was Shizuo's surprisingly cold reply which made Shinra sigh heavily in relief, having expected the blond to get uncontrollably furious at Izaya's comment.

"It makes me wonder though, why does everyone keep on mentioning and critisizing my private life, when it's just that— _private_." Izaya made a contemplative face one would expect a teenaged school girl to pull, while trying to figure out a math problem. All innocent curiousity and genuine effort, which, in Izaya's case, was obviously fake.

"Well, you're not distracting me, Izaya, lose the jacket and shirt so I can take a look at that infection." Shinra said, not surprised to see Izaya cringe.

"You don't need to-" Izaya was brusquely interrupted by Shizuo.

"Just do what he says, annyoing louse." The blond man warned the informant, while he stood up straight. Like a lion, ready to pounce, he stood a couple of meters away from the door.

"I..." Izaya couldn't even keep up with the pace his heart was plummeting into his stomach. "I feel fine, really. I just need some pills, nothing more." He said repetitively, starting to sound almost desperate. Almost as if he was trying to explain something to someone who didn't understand the language he was speaking.

"Sorry, Izaya, I really need to examine that wound. Just take off your jacket and shirt, and we'll be done in a second." Shinra was coming closer, putting on his gloves, while Izaya looked up at him, his red brown eyes bright with wonder and alarm, because he would never, ever show fear in front of anyone.

And when the doctor stood right in front of him, reaching out a hand to tug at his jacket, Izaya did the only thing his mind could come up with at the moment.

He ran.


	23. Chapter 23

"Oh no you don't." Shizuo exclaimed, stopping Izaya, who had jumped over the backrest of the coach and landed on wobbly legs, by catching him in his arms and trying his best to resist the urge to squeeze just a little too hard to hear the satisfying cracking of breaking bones.

"Let me go!" the dark haired man yelled, kicking desperately, as he was lifted into the air just slightly. He even tried biting the ex bartender, who was quick enough to pull away his hand, before sharp teeth could sink into his skin.

"Izaya, geez, calm down! Just what is wrong with you?" Shinra said loudly, trying to drown out Shizuo's angry growls, as Izaya tried to hit, scratch, bite, kick him, anything to get him to let go, no longer caring how much moving hurt him.

Shizuo dropped the struggling man onto the sofa, ignoring the other's yells.

With one hand, he pinned Izaya's wrists together over his head, while his right knee and lower leg put weight onto the smaller male's legs, so he couldn't move.

Izaya froze all of a sudden, the familiarity of the situation filling him with dread, while everyone in the room held their breaths.

Then the youngest man started fighting even more, his eyes closed, while his face contorted with emotional, rather than physical pain.

"Let go, let go, let go! Don't touch me, don't fucking touch me!" He yelled, merciless hands unzipping his jacket and pulling it off, even while his arms were constantly moving to defend himself.

"Flea, snap the fuck out of it!" Shizuo shouted, struggling to hold down the younger man, who was considerably stronger with adrenaline rushing through his veins.

The sound of tearing fabric cut through the air, and suddenly, Izaya stopped struggling, knowing that his upper body was exposed and that there was no way to stop what was bound to happen.

His arms shot up to hide his face in a protective gesture, as if he expected to be punched in the face.

"Don't...please don't touch me...please" The informant's small voice was barely audible. He was hit with silence.

Shinra, who had, upon seeing the injuries littering the younger male's chest, decided that he would need to look at the informant's lower body, too, stopped unbuckling Izaya's pants to look at the other man.

Both Shizuo and Shinra were briefly overwhelmed with shock from hearing Izaya beg.

A door opened, and Celty entered quickly, stopping immediately when she saw Shizuo holding Izaya down, while her boyfriend had his hands on the dark haired man's belt.

Quick typing broke the silence. In her shock, she made a lot of mistakes, but Shinra could still read the message.

[Are u tyring to rape hmi?!]

"No, no ,no, Celty, my love, this is not what it looks like." Shinra's voice wavered. "He's hurt and he refuses to let me treat him."

The black rider finally noticed the horrible wounds covering Izaya's torso, and her hands trembled when she typed the next message.

[S-so, waht happned to him?!]

"I don't know yet, honey. But don't you worry, we'll fix him up." Shinra promised, tugging open the black belt. Celty turned around as if on cue and left, to give them some privacy.


	24. Chapter 24

Meanwhile, Izaya seemed to be too overwhelmed by the situation, to even try to defend himself.

He just kept his face buried in his forearms, unintelligible pleas falling from his trembling lips, while his chest heaved from breathing too hard.

After what seemed like an eternity, the hands touching and undressing him left, yet he didn't dare look up, cold air making his completely bare form shiver.

Shock was no word to describe what Shinra and Shizuo felt, when they took in the sight of the naked man on the couch.

They had been prepared to see one painful looking wound, not thousands of them.

"What the hell—" was everything Shizuo could say, as he traced the cuts and bruises with his eyes, following the pattern of anger and hatred that had been engraved into the pale skin.

It was out of the question that these wounds had been caused by an accident.

Anger bubbled up in his chest, anger that could not be compared to the irritation he felt when Izaya came to Ikebukuro to bother him.

No, he felt a heavy, black fury settle in his stomach, as he looked at the mistreated creature in front of him, wishing for nothing more, than to find whoever was responsible for this, and bury his fist in their face.

The flea was _his_ to punish. His canvas to draw on with ruby blood, and purple bruises.

Actually, looking at the vast amount of wounds, he felt so disgusted by the violence leaving its marks on the slim body, that he knew, he himself would have never gone so far.

Sure, he hated the louse, and whenever he saw that pale, sneering face, he felt his fists itch with the desire to hit the smile right off of those lips, but he would never do something like _this_, because against common belief, there was something he hated even more than the flea.

And that was violence itsself.

The air seemed to grow thinner and Shizuo blinked rapidly a couple of times, when black dots invaded his sight. Even the sensitive skin around the younger man's genitalia, which would have usually been hidden by pubic hair, had not been spared, and Shizuo's stomach turned upon seeing the dark bruises in such a private place.

Shizuo knew, that such injuries could only come from sexual assault.

"I knew it." Shinra said, and Shizuo, who had almost forgotten about his old friend, looked to the side, only to witness an interested glint in his bespectacled eyes.

It only showed, just how much of a sick sadist Shinra could be, and it made Shizuo want to punch him square in that dopey looking face.

The doctor approached Izaya, who lay vulnerable and bare before them, the thin arms hiding his face trembling pathetically.

"Izaya." The doctor said, in a voice that sounded close to concerned. He pulled off the glove and touched Izaya's not infected shoulder, which was tinted blue by the blood that had gathered underneath the skin.

The informant flinched violently upon being touched, though Shinra's touch was meant to be comforting, warmth coming from the ungloved hand.

"Who did this to you?" Izaya didn't seem to realize that he was being spoken to.

He kept stubbornly quiet, surrendering to the relief and comfort of retreating into his own mind.


	25. Chapter 25

Shinra started to bandage the practically motionless body up, starting with the burn on the right shoulder, the edges of which had turned yellow with dead skin and white blood cells.

"Can you hand me the desinfectant, please?" Shinra asked Shizuo, who had watched silently, unable to grasp that what was before his eyes was really happening.

"Sure." He grabbed for the bottle and watched the doctor soak a ball of cotton, dabbing it against the burn gently.

Izaya's body convulsed unconsciously because of the horrible burning sensation, but he kept completely quiet.

It was almost mesmerizing to Shizuo to watch more and more pale skin being covered by white bandages and large band aids, covering the damage with the intention of undoing it, although that was probably impossible now.

Many questions swam through the ex bartender's head, and he could barely focus on the way Izaya's abdominal muscles contracted visibly, when Shinra tended to a rather large cut on his thigh.

Who had done this to the flea? Would he go back to being the same jerk he was now, after he got better?

But most importantly, why did he feel sympathy towards the louse?

Why didn't he feel like breaking the pale man's bones and laughing at his pain anymore?

"Can you hold him up for me?" Shizuo was snapped out of his thoughts by Shinra's voice, and tentatively reached out.

With both hands, he grabbed the flea beneath his armpits, soft skin meeting his calloused fingers, and Shizuo took in a harsh breath, when he saw the wounds on the other man's back.

Shinra moved to the other side of the couch, leaning over the back rest, while desinfecting and wrapping the damaged skin, before motioning for Shizuo to lay Izaya back down.

The doctor pulled out a needle from his suit case and set it down, before he opened a few cabinets, searching for something, until he pulled out a bottle of intravenous antibiotics.

After successfully placing the IV drip, he exited the room, leaving Shizuo alone with Izaya, who had not moved an inch, while he forced himself to breathe calmly.

"Izaya." Shizuo whispered meditatively, never having spoken the other man's first name, without anger and/or hatred audible in his voice.

He received no reply, as expected, and forced himself to look away from the naked man. He had never actually noticed how thin Izaya was. His back had always seemed broader when Shizuo had chased him through the city, and the debt collector thought it was virtually impossible to muster up such speed with those thin, pale legs.

Shinra came back, carrying a shirt and pajama pants, which he put onto the sofa next to the informant.

"Izaya?" the unlicensed doctor spoke, approaching the man and gently pulling the information broker's stiff arms away from his face.

Izaya's eyebrows were drawn together and his eyes were closed, in an expression that showed that he was expecting pain.

"Hey, Izaya, you can get dressed now." Shinra tried again, yet to no avail, while he frowned down at the informant's strangely pretty face.

Shizuo was just about to suggest leaving Izaya alone, so he could pull himself together, when suddenly, Shinra raised his right hand, and slapped Izaya across the face. Hard.

"Oi, don't hit him—"

Red brown eyes flew open immediately, long, dark eyelashes lifting.

"What the hell—" Izaya choked out, observing his surroundings, before realizing that he was not wearing anything, and that his worst enemy was just a few feet away from him, looking at him, as if he'd never seen anything like him before.

"Good to have you back." Shinra said, almost humorously, gesturing towards the clothes. "Get dressed. I told Celty to get the guestroom ready. You can stay here tonight."

Izaya immediately made a grab for the clothing and pulled it on with some difficutly.


	26. Chapter 26

"You're lucky your broken ribs didn't pierce your lungs, or it might have been fatal." Shinra told Izaya, as he led him through the dimly lit hallway towards the guest room. "There's not much I can do like this, though. Just don't move around too much or the healing process will be considerably longer."

Izaya kept his head lowered the entire time, unable to meet anyone's eyes in shame. He wanted to disappear right about now. Badly.

"Can we please not dicuss this now?" Izaya asked almost timidly, never ripping his gaze from the incredibly interesting carpeted floor. Shinra _and_ Shizuo already knew, he really didn't want Celty to find out.

Shinra opened the door and walked into the dark room, before turning on the bedside lamp.

Shizuo was right behind them, holding the heavy bottle filled with liquid antibiotics attached to Izaya's arm, a thoughtful frown on his face, dazed look in his eyes, as he followed them like a loyal dog, and if Izaya hadn't felt like killing himself for being found out, he might have made fun of him.

"Lie down and get some rest." The underground doctor said almost gently, while he motioned for Shizuo to hang the IV bottle onto an apparatus that seemed specifically made for that purpose, and increased the amount of fluid dripping through the slim plastic tube.

Izaya obeyed, most likely only because he was too ashamed to argue, and climbed into bed, his movements stiff due to the heavy bandages covering his wounds.

He stayed quiet, the rustling of the blanket being the only sound in the room, as the informant covered himself with it.

"Izaya." Shinra called out to the dark haired man, who reluctantly looked up from the white blanket rising along with his chest, as he breathed in and out. It was all he could do, to keep himself from pulling the covers over his head and hide himself away.

"I'm not going to ask you about this today." Izaya visibly relaxed, his eyes darting towards Shinra's face, although he barely reached the doctor's chest, before looking away again and briefly focusing on Shizuo's hands, which were fumbling almost nervously with the edge of his shirt.

Obviously, the debt collector didn't know what to do or think, and Izaya really, really wanted to say that it was because Shizu-chan just lacked a properly functioning brain, but he couldn't.

He was too scared that one of them would make fun of him, or mention _it_ at all.

"But when you wake up tomorrow, I want to know how this happened." Izaya swallowed and didn't even dare to blink.

Luckily, Shinra seemed to realize that Izaya needed to be alone, the informant's nervous shifting being enough evidence of the discomfort he felt after having his privacy invaded.

Shinra switched off the lamp, the light coming from the hallway being the only thing illuminating their silhouettes.

Izaya turned onto his left side and curled up noiselessly, relaxing slightly upon hearing two sets of feet walking away.

"Hey." He called out, voice slightly rough, hearing the footsteps stop. "Don't tell anyone."

"We won't." Shinra promised. A second later, the door closed softly and Izaya listened to the two men leave, until he could no longer hear the pattern of their steps over his violently beating heart.


	27. Chapter 27

Shinra and Shizuo stayed quiet for quite a while, as they both reached the living room and sat down heavily on the couch, an invisible burden weighing down on them.

"Just what the hell...was that?" Shizuo asked, breaking the silence. "He's...just messing with us, _isn't he_?" There was a hint of desperation in those words.

Shinra cleaned his glasses, before setting them back onto his nose, where they had dug into his skin, leaving red marks.

"I doubt it." Shinra answered, after thoughtfully frowning to himself. "He was desperate to hide it. I don't think all that was an act."

"What kind of reaction was that anyway? He just lay there and let everything happen. What a coward." Shizuo scoffed, hardly able to believe that the seemingly invincible flea he had been chasing for years could be reduced to such a pathetic heap of trembling limbs, just by being held down. Though it sort of explained why the louse was so good at running away.

"I'd say he has a form of PTSD." Shizuo's look was enough to let Shinra know, that if he didn't explain what PTSD was in the next few seconds, he'd have to expect pain.

It was Shinra's fault, after all, that he was using all these fucking fancy words and terms a normal person wouldn't understand.

"Post traumatic stress disorder." Shinra stated. "I'd say that something really, really bad must have happened to Izaya in the past few days or weeks, something even he was unable to deal with."

"Well, that's obvious." Shizuo grumbled, briefly interrupting the doctor's lecture.

"Panic attacks are a symptom of post traumatic stress disorder. They usually occur, when the person is in someway reminded of what happened and therefore forced to reexperience the traumatizing event."

Shinra was obviously in all out doctor mode, though Shizuo instinctively knew, that it was the doctor's way of staying detached from Izaya's problems, who, despite being a horrible person in the debt collector's opinion, was a close friend of Shinra's.

Shinra had trained himself to stay objective in such situations, even though Shizuo could only assume how shaken the doctor really was on the inside, being Izaya's friend, when the ex bartender himself could barely keep in the dread squirming within him.

And he fucking hated the louse.

"I guess we triggered it by holding him down and forcefully stripping him, but then again, we didn't know about it, so we're not to blame, right?" Shinra laughed uneasily, as if he had told a racist joke in a black man's house.

"Considering that being physically restrained and undressed caused him to show symptoms, and judging from the injuries he has, the only conclusion I can reach, is that he was probably tortured, sexually abused and or raped." Gray blue eyes looked at Shizuo from behind glasses, looking for validation, like a nervous elementary school student after a presentation.

Shizuo nodded gravely, not quite meeting Shinra's almost pleading look. What exactly did the younger man look for? Approval for not letting his clinical facade shatter under the pressure of empathy?

"Must have been one of those color gangs he constantly screws over. Probably got fed up with his schemes and had their revenge." But Shizuo couldn't sound careless. He couldn't even fully convince himself, that the flea had deserved this, much less act as if this was none of his business.

This was his mortal enemy, the person he had been trying to get his hands on for years, so he could finally beat him up for all the times the louse had pissed him off. And, besides the strange form of possessiveness he felt when it came to hurting the louse, it made him feel like a failure, that someone had managed to do something he'd been failing at for 8 years.

"I'm not sure any of those teenager gangs would go so far. Izaya works for much more dangerous people, the yakuza for instance, so I think it's more likely that someone wanted to get their hands on information and tried to get Izaya to talk. He's the kind of person to have the mental stability to stay quiet, even when pain is being inflicted on him, so they probably tried to break him emotionally."


	28. Chapter 28

Shinra seemed to be convinced that talking excessively would cover up the trembling in his voice.

"You don't have to act like it doesn't matter to you, you know. You can just show that you're worried about the flea." Shizuo really didn't understand why people bothered to cover up their emotions all the time. Showing anger, or worry, or sadness wasn't something to be ashamed of, in Shizuo's opinion at least.

"I —" Shinra began, swallowing. "I always warned him that something like this might happen. I even told him, that if it did happen, he would deserve it... But now that I've seen him like this, I don't think I can convince myself that anyone could earn something like this." Shinra muttered, rubbing his sore eyes, after removing his glasses, while smoothly avoiding having to put into words _what_exactly had happened to Izaya.

"Well...no one should be treated like this. The flea's still a human being..." Shizuo stumbled over his words, perfectly contradicting himself. After a few seconds of silence, in which he struggled to put his thoughts into words, a sour look appeared on his face.

"Aw, fuck it. I'm really no good with words." Shinra silently nodded in agreement. "I hate the louse. I hate his guts, and I don't like him any better just because of what happened to him, and I highly doubt that it'll change anything about his fucking sneaky personality—"

Shizuo almost got a bit too carried away with his tirades of hatred. They established a certain amount of normality in the chaos he had been thrown into.

"But that doesn't mean I'm okay with what's happened to him, whether he deserved it or not, a human being shouldn't be treated like that." Shizuo looked determined by the end of his rant, and Shinra was visibly surprised.

"You're right." Shinra agreed, slightly speechless. He was used to working with people who lied constantly, so that the debt collector's honesty always astonished the doctor.

Soft steps approached, and the door was pushed open by a dark clad arm.

[It's 12 PM, don't you want to go to bed?]

Shinra looked happier, upon catching sight of Celty. He stood up quickly and crossed the space between him and his roommate.

"Celty! You're still awayke! Have you been waiting for me?" A rather weak, loving(?) punch in the stomach was all the reply he got, before the dullahan swtiched her attention towards Shizuo.

[Would you like to stay the night? You look very tired. It would spare you the long walk home. Besides, your work place isn't far from here.]

"Yeah, I think I'll stay. I don't really wanna walk home now." Shizuo nodded, happy about Celty's arrival and the distraction it entailed.

"Ehh? Celty, you're inviting a guy to sleep over? I thought I was the only one for you and—" Shinra was clearly only half serious, but he still knew that he earned the punch to the stomach, that made him cough for a moment, as he tried to regain his breath.

[It's only fair, since _you_also invited a guy to sleep here.] Shizuo grinned at the message.

"But Celty, I had to let Izaya stay the night. He wouldn't have made it back home like that. If I had any choice, we would have been completely alone tonight, so no one could interfere with our lo— oww, that hurts, that hurts— Besides, you know that I don't swing that way."

Shinra was still mumbling barely audible love declarations, while Celty was typing another message.

[You can sleep on the couch, if you don't mind, Shizuo. Normally I'd offer you the guest room, but seen as it's occupied now—] She seemed to realize that mentioning Izaya was entering dangerous territory and abruptly cut of the sentence.

[I'll be right back. I'm just fetching a pillow and blanket.]


	29. Chapter 29

In the hopeless desolation of the impersonally clean room, Izaya was sweating out his fever, knowing full well, that the shadows he saw squirming in the corners of the room, weren't really there at all.

Still, he couldn't push away the paranoid fear that the ceiling was coming closer inch by inch, baring its fangs at him and waiting for its opportunity to laugh at him, while smashing his face in.

"Since when have you been afraid of the dark?" A taunting voice whispered somewhere close to his ear.

"Are you finally admitting defeat, _Izaya_." His name was spoken in a mockingly affectionate way, and the breath was knocked out of him, when he realized that it was Shiki's voice that was deriding him.

The painfully familiar scent of tobacco and cologne seemed to hang in the air thickly, filling his lungs like poisonous smoke.

He knew, that he was simply imagining Shiki's presence, because the Awakusu-kai executive had never, ever called him by his first name so casually. Most likely only to prove, how good he was at pretending to be detached from the informant.

What really caught him off guard though, was that he was pertified with fear by the mere thought of being so close to Shiki. So much, so that his heart beat faster and faster, feeling as though it was about to explode, while breathing seemed almost impossible, as he took in unsteady gulps of air through his mouth.

When had he started to be this scared of Shiki? When had the older man managed to get to him like this?

Somewhere along the way, every positive aspect about his relationship with Shiki had been lost, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but competitiveness, possessiveness and violence.

Ironically, their already rather unusual relationship had completely deteriorated the very day Shiki had admitted defeat and confessed that what he felt for Izaya was something more serious than physical attraction or superficial desire.

That very day, Shiki had declared himself the loser of the game Izaya had started with all of his teasing and flirting, only to begin a completely different game, one that Izaya had no chance of winning.

Because Shiki had not only lost the game that day, he had lost his heart to Izaya.

A 35 year old, married man falling for the advances of a 23 year old man, who was still nothing more than a child, cheeky and audacious enough to play adult games.

_That_ was the ultimate humiliation, and it awoke a deep, uncontrollable fury within the usually stoic, calm man, a side no one had ever seen of him before. A side even Shiki himself had most likely not been aware of existing within him.

In the end, selfishly taking a man's heart, only to toy with it, had become his undoing, because now his life was being made miserable by the very monster he himself had created.

"...fuck." Izaya gasped out breathlessly, his chest clenching painfully. And of course, it was only now that he noticed, that maybe he wasn't as indifferent towards Shiki as he had originally thought. And it took all the abuse and mistreatment for him to realize this.

Izaya's sight blurred uncontrollably, the barely lit room vanishing behind an almost transparent veil.

And then a tear made its way down the side of his face slowly.


	30. Chapter 30

There had been a time, when just the sound of Shiki's voice had made Izaya's heart flutter in excitment at the underlying promise of danger and adventure in every syllable he uttered.

The scent of cigarettes and after shave used to make him want to lean in, his fingers itching to touch and his lips prickling in anticipation.

Shiki's mere existence had been like a compliment to Izaya, because Shiki, one of the Awakusu-kai's smartest strategists, had been deployed only to make dealings with the information broker. He was the yakuza's token of respect.

And it was because Shiki was so clever, and had been looked upon as capable of handling Izaya by the yakuza themselves, that Izaya had, upon first laying eyes on him, felt compelled to play his mind games even with someone he knew to be dangerous.

And he had won.

Only to be painfully reminded that in reality, such games didn't count and that it had been foolishly naive to think he could get away with the dirty tricks he had used to deceive Shiki and manipulate him into feeling the way he did.

Intellectually and emotionally, Izaya might have once had an advantage, but such things didn't really matter, when Shiki had, upon realizing that psychologically, it was almost impossible to damage Izaya, set his mind on harming him physically instead.

But lying there, trying to cry away the pain, Izaya realized that apparently Shiki had managed to do both in the end, and therefore won the game that could not be called such anymore.

After all of his efforts, Shiki had succeeded in breaking him.

So what was he supposed to do now? With the way things were, there was no way that admitting defeat would placate Shiki. It was far too late for that.

Izaya knew, that it was practically impossible to soothe the older man's anger, and that he couldn't rid Shiki of the sick pleasure he derived from putting Izaya into pain and watching him be reduced to a screaming, twitching mess. It seemed to be even more intoxicating than witnessing the informant writhing and incoherently moaning in pleasure.

It wasn't like apologizing didn't come to Izaya's frantic mind, but he cast it aside as a stupid idea, knowing himself far too well to not know, that even if he apologized to Shiki, it wouldn't be because he truly felt sorry for playing with the man's feelings, but rather because he hoped that it would improve his situation.

And apologizing on such selfish terms would not only piss Shiki off even more, it would also hurt Izaya's pride. Shiki would never show him mercy.

Either way, he had to find a solution, and he needed one fast, because not too long from now, he would have to stand up to Shiki once more, and he doubted his body would be able to withstand another beating.

Not to mention that his heart clenched painfully each time he wished for nothing more than a small sign of affection, only for his hopes to be crushed by experiencing more violence.

It was pathetic really. Sometimes he felt like a kitty cat, circling Shiki's ankles, hoping to be paid attention to and to be cuddled, only to be kicked aside, even though, in a less pitiful way, Shiki had been in the same position as him, as hard as it was to imagine.

Lazily, he raised a hand to his face and wiped salty water with the blanket, gripping the cotton fabric almost angrily.

How could he let something like this happen to him? How could he lose control like this?

And more importantly, how could he feel something for the person who had stripped him of all the arrogance and pride he shielded himself with?

There was only one way out of this, and it hurt Izaya in all the ways it shouldn't have, when he reached the only rational conclusion.

He needed to get rid of Shiki.


	31. Chapter 31

Even as a sense of satisfaction flared up within him because he had been able to come to this realization, his thoughts were a jumbled mess of blurred memories and information, and he couldn't seem to make sense of what was going on within his own mind.

With his eyes closed, he could see pictures of cold basement chambers flash before his eyes, a familiar cold creeping over his skin, which crawled instinctively, as he felt like the blanket around him was tightening its hold, while nonexistent hands seemed to claw at his skin.

At some point, Shiki's treatment must have become too much to tolerate for him, though he couldn't really figure out when this limit had been reached.

Change always came gradually. And maybe it was because of how sneakily change had crept up on him, that he had not actually noticed it much and dismissed Shiki's progressively more violent tendencies as harmless.

Shortly after Shiki's confession and Izaya's indirect rejection, he had looked at himself in the mirror after returning from one of their 'dates', and dully noted the bitemarks on his neck, which stood out against the pale skin, mildly annoyed, because they would be hard to cover up.

Six months later, he had been barely capable of standing up straight in front of the mirror, while he searched for patches of skin that weren't damaged, among the blue and purple bruises and all of the other injuries.

And it wasn't like Izaya could just flip Shiki the bird and walk away without consequences. He had told the older man a few times that he wasn't going to put up with his shit anymore, and that he would leave for good...only to be back a few weeks later, hoping his ultimatum of sorts might have achieved something. It never did, yet he always came back.

It was then that Shiki decided that he should demonstrate the power he had over Izaya, by shamelessly exploiting his few vulnerabilities. Then again, Izaya had brazenly cunned his way into Shiki's heart, and there was nothing Shiki could do to reach that level of flagrancy.

So he might have occasionally mentioned how he could have Izaya shot on the spot by one of his underlings, or cut into so many little pieces, that he could use him to find out if the koi carps he kept in his backyard's pond liked human flesh.

It worked for a while, because Shiki knew all too well, that Izaya was _terrified_ of dying.

Then, after a whole day of practically constant torment, Izaya had looked Shiki in the eyes with a barely focused glare, and venomously told him to just get it over with and kill him.

It broke something within both of them, but such things went unsaid.

Shiki simply, out of habit, or rather experience, figured that Izaya was just trying to find out, if he really had it in him to kill the informant. And it only served to fuel his anger, because Izaya had successfully called his bluff.

With slow, deliberate steps, Shiki had approached the tied up young man, making sure to look him in the eyes and witness the spark of fear igniting a whole fire of dread in the red brown irises, while he took a few seconds to appreciate the pretty sight before him.

Then he had raised his right fist and punched the informant square in the face. And almost immediately, satisfaction had flooded him like cold water, soothing the burning rage within his heart, as warm blood ran down his knuckles and Izaya's pupils dilated in response to the pain.

They would both remember this day as the first time Shiki had dared to threaten not Izaya's, but his sisters' safety, consequently finding a more permanent and effective method of subduing the informant.

It was also the first time he had let a few of his subordinates into the room he kept Izaya locked up in and..._shared_ the young man with them, letting them touch him freely.

Just thinking about it flooded Izaya's mind with pictures he had repressed, and he shuddered uncontrollably, a heavy weight settling inside of his stomach, which was upset anyway, because he hadn't really had a decent meal in over three days.

Turning in bed, he knew that he wouldn't be able to rest with his thoughts in such disarray, while he mumbled soothing words, hoping to lull himself to sleep.


	32. Chapter 32

It was early in the morning, the horizon above the building's harsh, dark edges had barely been tinted a slightly lighter shade of midnight blue by the slowly rising sun, when Izaya rose from the sweat dampened white bed.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair which felt uncomfortably sticky, tousling it in the process and scratching his scalp to distract himself from the dark blotches entering his vision from getting up too quickly.

Barely managing to stand and not let his knees give in to send him plummeting to the ground, he felt the blood rush back into his head, his face warming instantly, while he shivered slightly in the cold air that now hit him.

With an annoyed glance at the IV needle still stuck in his arm, he spontaneously decided to get rid of it, plucking it out of his arm carelessly, pressing the sleeve of his shirt against the small wound for half a minute to make sure to stop the bleeding.

Slinging his good arm around his midriff in a failed attempt at keeping warm, he took silent steps towards the room's only exit, the slight pattering of his naked feet on the ground being the only sound breaking the unearthly silence of the still sleeping city.

Keeping as quiet as possible, as not to wake the apartment's occupants he tiptoed towards the bathroom to relieve himself, wash his face and rinse his mouth with water, before he entered the living room in search of his clothes.

And he started predictably upon seeing a messy blond head resting on the couch's arm rest.

Carefully, he walked around the sofa, noticing his clothes neatly folded on the coffee table only a few inches away from Shizuo's hand, which had at some point dropped onto the glass surface, because he had moved restlessly.

Shizuo didn't look particularily peaceful in his sleep. There was a slight frown of concentration on his face, and he was pouting.

Izaya grinned, feeling tempted to shove something in between Shizuo's lips, because he could somehow imagine the brute starting to suck on the object like a baby dreaming about drinking milk. Shizu-chan had an underdeveloped brain after all, so it was only natural that he wouldn't have lost his sucking reflex.

The cold seeping in through his damp clothes reminded him of more pressing things though, so he inched closer to the blond man, his arm stretching to reach for his clothing while he hoped that he wouldn't clumsily knock something over and wake the monster.

He grabbed a hold of both his pants and jacket and dragged them over the surface of the coffee table, only for the zipper to scratch against the glass, making a sound that would have been barely noticeable if it hadn't been so quiet.

Izaya quickly picked up the clothing and pressed it against his stomach, as he ran as silently and quickly as his injuries would let him, while he heard Shizuo groan very, very softly and stir slightly.

After he had managed to get dressed and had found out that it was 7AM by now. He heard the city outside slowly coming to life while the sky got brighter and brighter with every passing minute.

It was about time for him to leave, lest Shinra woke up and wanted to talk to him about the injuries Izaya had been trying to hide so desperately, only to be found out by not one, but two people he knew. Not only had he failed epically at keeping it a secret, but he had also let them see just how much he was affected by what had happened.

Seriously, could it get any worse?!

So naturally, he wasn't going to stick around and wait for Shinra to _speak_ to him, telling him what to do and how to feel without really having _any _idea what he was even talking about.

He shoved his right hand into his pocket protectively, trying not to upset his infected shoulder and had half a mind to be glad that his fever seemed to be gone, while he looked for something he could write with.

After he had found a pen he wrote a quick _Thank you. _onto the back of a rather unimportant looking cooking recipe that had been randomly lying around and put the note onto the pillow, making a mental note to pay Shinra for his services.

Then, he left the guest room fully dressed, making sure that his phone and wallet were in his pocket before quietly making his way towards the front door.

He was only a few feet away from his shoes, having passed by the couch quietly when a sleepy voice made him stop in his tracks.

"Where are you going?"


	33. Chapter 33

"Home." Was Izaya's answer, lacking all of his usual sarcasm. He didn't bother turning around, as he made a grab for his shoes, quietly slipping them on.

He could feel Shizuo's light brown eyes glare holes into his neck, as the ex bartender scowled.

"Shinra told you to stay." The debt collector stated and Izaya heard the beginnings of anger in his gruff voice. It made a familiar excitement rush through the informant's body and he felt very refreshed despite not having caught even a wink of sleep.

"I'm well aware of that." Izaya said, barely deeming Shizuo's statement worthy of a reply. He could hear the blond man shifting on the couch, as he sat up.

"But you're leaving anyway." Izaya knew very well from years of observation that by now, Shizuo had closed his eyes, almost as if to calmly think things through, while in thruth the vein on his temple was already throbbing threateningly. "You're just going to take it for granted that he saved your life and step all over his hospitality?!"

"I need him to do his job, not to satisfy his own curiousity. Besides, with the amount of money I transfer to his account each time he patches me up, I could most likely pay for several insurances." The informant countered coldly.

"Who fucking cares about your filthy money!? Shinra was really concerned about you!" Apparently Izaya had once again rubbed Shizuo the wrong way, only that this time it was not intentionally for a change. "Because even though you don't in the least deserve it, he considers you a friend."

Somehow, Shizuo managed to express just how pissed off he was, while having enough self control to keep his voice down. It was almost impressive, considering that Izaya had, upon noticing that Shizuo was awake, expected to have to dodge another heavy object that was being hurled at him.

"Well, Shinra is hardly the type to make friends easily, so it's probably just lack of a replacement that makes him keep in touch with me." He laughed at the statement that rather blatantly insulted Shinra, even though, upon closer inspection, it was really a rather self-deprecating thing to say, what with Izaya's lack of contradiction when it came to not deserving Shinra's friendship and his mentioning of being replacable to the doctor despite knowing him for years.

But Shizuo was not the kind of person to dig up such underlying meanings, so Izaya's unintentional modesty went unnoticed, keeping his smug facade perfectly in tact.

"Well, you're one to talk. I bet if it wasn't for Shinra, you wouldn't have any friends at all." Shizuo grunted, predictably missing the brief slip up in Izaya's arrogant act, which made the corners of the informant's lips twitch upwards.

"Shizu-chan, what's with the change in attitude? I can't say I really expected you to try to break my spirit instead of my skull. Though I guess I should just learn to expect the unexpected when it comes to you." Izaya briefly turned his head and looked over his shoulder, to make sure nothing heavy was approaching his head at a rapid pace.

"I'm just telling the truth. I'm not trying to break your spirit, because unlike you, I don't have ulterior motives all the god damn time. Though I can't say that I don't want to break your skull." Shizuo conceded that last part with a slightly bitter smile, as he rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Well, now that we've established that, I guess I should congratulate you on being able to reign in your homicidal tendencies for such a long period of time." He intentionally threw in a couple of words that would take Shizuo some time to figure out, while the debt collector frowned in confusion.

"I'll be on my way." And just like that, he slipped out the door swiftly, barely opening it and sliding it shut soundlessly as he hurried to the elevator before Shizuo could even think about trying to stop him.


	34. Chapter 34

He hobbled away as quickly as he could and kept up a steady, fast pace until well after Shinra's apartment had disappeared from sight, so he could be absolutely sure that Shizuo wasn't following him.

Only then did he feel safe enough to slow down to a normal pace, slipping into the crowd easily while still knowing just from the way they glanced at him that he stuck out without even trying to.

Looking them straight in the face and reading their expressions was only half as much fun as it used to be months ago, but maybe it was just his fear that they might actually once look at him, really look at him, and notice what a mess he was right now, that was spoiling the mood.

But over the years, he had taught himself to be able to change his mood like his desktop wallpaper. Just select a new picture and forget about the old one.

So he smoothly switched from his bitter, contemplative mood to a more cheerful one, putting on a grin, even while hopelessness still lingered within his mind, like shadows waiting to swallow him.

Maybe this more convenient mood would help him with working on the hasty plan he had, despite being feverish and generally unable to think clearly, managed to throw together to free himself from Shiki's clutches.

He ignored the several rational parts of his brain that told him that he was making a horrible, horrible mistake by further spiting Shiki and betraying Shiki's 'trust', although the older man would have never been stupid enough to actually trust Izaya. What he really trusted in was the fact that he had scared Izaya enough to make sure the informant wouldn't _dare _to do anything the awakusu-kai member wouldn't approve of.

That was a delusion of course, because Izaya liked to tell himself that he wasn't that easily intimidated and that he dealt rather well with what had already happened to him.

Still, he needed to get rid of any vulnerabilites Shiki might know about, before he could even try to fight him. And this entailed another uncomfortable task he wouldn't be able to avoid.

Glancing down at his phone, he looked at the contact he had wanted to delete so many times without being able to pull it off in the end.

The picture showed a pretty, young looking, japanese woman who looked no older than thirty, glossy dark hair reaching her shoulders, while her rusty brown eyes glinted with wit, even as a kind smile tugged at her full lips.

The name 'Orihara Kyouko' flashed beneath the picture and the green call button was situated right beneath the contact informantion invitingly.

It wasn't like he was on bad terms with the woman who had - completely by mistake, as she had felt the need to tell him a lot when he was younger - brought him into this world and had conceived his two sisters ten years later. It was more the lack of a relationship to begin with, that made any interaction with her uncomfortable and painful.

He sighed, pressed the 'Call' button and held the phone against his ear while intently listening to the dull sound of the dial tone.


	35. Chapter 35

"Hello?" a husky, male voice answered in English. He had expected as much.

"Hi, this is Izaya. I need to speak to Kyouko." The informant said in fluent English with not even a hint of an accent. His parents both worked in the US, and he had spend his early childhood there, waiting in anonymous hotel rooms for his mom and dad to return from work.

He had learned English very quickly from the several different maids that had brought him food while his parents were away and some day, he had been so comfortable and familiar with the language that he had even talked to his parents in English instead of Japanese.

There was some shuffling on the other side of the line and Izaya tried not to recognize the sound of rustling bedsheets.

"There's some guy on the phone who wants to talk to you." Izaya heard the man's muffled voice say almost accusingly and knew that he had pressed one hand over the cell phone's microphone, thinking it would keep Izaya from hearing what he was saying.

"Tell him I'm busy." A female voice muttered and even though Izaya didn't consciously remember his mother's voice because it had been almost a year since he had last heard it, there was a small part within him that recognized her voice instinctively, maybe from when he had still been a baby. Despite there being no conscious memory of that time, it had obviously left some kind of imprint on him.

"She's very busy right now." The man said coldly and Izaya smiled bitterly. "Who are you by the way?"

It only took a second for Izaya's smile to turn into a devious one, as his eyes glinted with mischief.

"Oh, no one important, really. Let's just say that I'm someone who's _intimately _familiar with her vagina." He heard the distinctive and very, very satisfying sound of the phone dropping onto the floor and then the line went dead.

It was a petty, childish thing to do, really, but a huge part of him felt smug for giving his mother a little trouble to remember him by. He had every right to do so.

After all, she was the woman who had sent him to Tokyo alone by plane when he had barely been 7 years old, and had told him to wait for a grandmother he had never even met and who seemed to have completely forgotten about picking him up from the airport.

A few minutes later, his phone rang.

"Orihara Izaya speaking." He answered gleefully in English, which was a hint in itself that he knew who was calling.

"Izaya. What did you say to Brad-" Last time it had been Tom. "to make him walk out on me like that?!" His mother said, not bothering to switch to Japanese. She sounded upset, he noted with contentment.

"Ah, nothing much. He was already pretty pissed off just by the fact that a guy was calling you. I think that speaks volumes about your trustworthiness." The informant observed. His mother sighed heavily, as her initial anger retreated.

"I haven't heard from you in a quite a while, Izaya. How are you?" And suddenly, she had switched to being the concerned mother she had never been when he had still needed her protection.

"I'm fine...something like that at least." He said, sounding very indifferent while his side throbbed with what he presumed was the feeling of his ribs trying to grow back together.

"How are you?" Politeness made him ask, not real concern. Besides, from the sound of it, his mother was just fine.

"I'm ok. Pretty busy, I guess." She seemed to hesitate for a moment and the brief silence said almost everything about their relationship, or lack thereof. Izaya's mood darkened and he felt a tug at what normal people would probably call a 'heart'. "Why didn't you come pick me up from the airport when I came to visit for the twins' birthday last June?"

"Huh?" He was slightly taken aback. It had been ten months since then, yet his mother could obviously still recall that. "I did actually."

"Ehh? I waited for two hours, but you didn't show up. I took a cab to the twins' apartment." She said accusingly, sounding a lot like a mother scolding her child for eating candy before dinner.


	36. Chapter 36

"I know. You walked passed me and got into the cab before I could stop you." He had been in a bad mood for almost a week after, because his mother hadn't even _recognized _him.

"How come I didn't see you?" She wondered, failing to mention why she hadn't even tried to call him when she hadn't found him, or why she hadn't contacted him anytime during the entire week she had spent in Tokyo.

"Probably because you don't even know what I look like anymore." He explained almost coldly. It was rare for him to be so blunt.

"That's an evil thing to say, you know. As if I could forget what my first born child looks like." He was immensely glad that she didn't call him her 'accidental child' any more and was angry at himself only a second later for even caring.

"What's my hair color, Kyouko?" he asked neutrally, while he got a few odd stares from random strangers around him, who didn't seem to be accustomed to hearing someone who looked Japanese speak flawless English.

"You still won't call me your mother, huh?" She concluded, not surprised in the least by him calling her by her first name. He had done that for quite a long time now. "And it's brown, just like the twins."

"It's black, _mom_." He corrected, raising his voice slightly, while he drawled the affectionate nickname mockingly.

"I know that, dear, I was kidding." He highly doubted it, but decided to just ignore it.

"Whatever." He sighed, swallowing down disappointment. "Listen, I need you to do me a favor."

"A favor?" She asked, sounding excited. He guessed that she hoped to redeem herself and at the same time, he doubted she was ready to admit yet, that leaving a 14 year old teenager alone with two 4 year old girls and a grandmother who seemed dead certain that her deceased husband would come back from work any second, and who counted from 1 to 6 in rythmic patterns every five seconds, had been pedagogically incorrect.

"Yeah." He affirmed, all of his worries starting to crash down on him again, smothering him for a second.

"What kind of favor?" She asked, slightly unsettled by his silence. Despite all their lack of contact and time spent together, she remembered that her son talked incessantly and was probably physically incapable of shutting up. That's what he had been like as an adolescent at least.

"I...got caught up in some trouble-" He suddenly felt very much like a little boy who was telling his mother that he was being bullied, crying and howling and wanting to be held. "I'm worried that Mairu and Kururi get roped into this, so I was hoping you could take them in for a while."

There was silence on the other side of the line. Izaya waited patiently.

"And this trouble you got into requires your sisters to leave the country?" She sounded sceptical. He didn't blame her. "To leave school mid semester and live in a country whose language they don't understand?" By now, her voice had gained an accusing undertone.

"It's just a precaution." he assured, although he was certain that if he failed with what he was attempting to do, Mairu and Kururi's well being would be in danger.

"Sounds like you've been up to shady stuff. You're not breaking the law, are you?" The law. Of course, that was what she should be caring about when he was telling her that his sisters might be in danger, which naturally meant that he was in danger, as well.

"Not directly." He evaded her question. She didn't actually know how he made his money, or how he was able to pay the ridiculously high rent of his Shinjiku apartment. He could have probably whored himself out in order to make money for all she cared.


	37. Chapter 37

"Fine. I'll book them a suite in one of the hotels around here." She sighed and a burden was lifted off his shoulders.

"I'll book them a flight to LA." He stopped at a red light. "Can I tell them that you wanted to see them and therefore invited them? I know it doesn't sound realistic, but I'm sure it would make them happy. And it would be an easy excuse."

"Sure. I doubt they'll buy it though. They know I would never pull them out of school. I guess I'll just try to get them to go to one of those international schools around here."

"Thanks." He said neutrally.

"But you know that doesn't mean I approve of you being reckless with your sisters' lives." _What a about my life? _"You should really be more sensible and make sure your sisters won't have to pay for your screw ups."

He almost laughed. His mother was telling him to take responsibility, after _he _had raised her two daughters pratically all by himself, because she was too infatuated with her career to take care of them.

"Yes." He agreed, keeping in the cynic retort that immediately surfaced in his mind.

"By the way, have you heard something from your father lately?" And just like that, his mother had brushed off the fact that her children were in great danger.

"No, I haven't heard from him. I think he calls the twins every now and then." The only way for him not to find this incredibly insulting and unfair, was to tell himself that he was an adult and that he had gotten by without his parents well enough all this time.

"Well, last time I talked to him he was still in Austria promoting something— I don't quite remember what it was actually." Kyouko said, unconcerned about the fact that her husband was far, far away from her and that she didn't even really know what (_who_) he was doing.

"How are you two still married?" Izaya asked, genuinely interested for the first time during their conversation. "I mean, you're obviously cheating on him, so wouldn't it be better if—"

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea." His mother interrupted him, sounding almost offended.

"Ah, so I guess he changed his name to Brad, huh?" Every single syllable dripped with sarcasm.

"No. We've just accepted that we rarely see each other and that we both get lonely sometimes and need someone to comfort us. Grown ups just have certain needs that—"

"Come on, you don't have to put it that way. Seriously, I'm 23, telling me about the birds and bees is hardly necessary." It sickened him to even think about his parents' sex lives, but it sickened him even more that his mother thought she needed to stay vague on a topic he knew everything about.

"So you're not a virgin anymore?" Kyouko sounded almost shocked. She was most likely not as shocked as he was, though, when he heard this ridiculous question.

"Mom..." He said tiredly, face palming in his head.

"Haha, got you to call me 'Mom'. And the twins do tell me stuff about you. They really care about you, don't they." He felt the need to explain that they cared way too much about him in certain ways, while they were completely indifferent to important things, his well being for instance.

"Do I really want to know what they told you?" He asked, mentally preparing himself. While his sisters thankfully knew little about what he actually did as an informant, they knew way too much about his flings and sexcapades, simply because they were more interested in those.

"Well, they told me about a certain _Namie _person~" His mother chirped happily. "Should I expect a wedding anytime soon?"

"Namie is my secretary." Izaya muttered and immediately noticed that it didn't actually explain a thing. "And she really hates me. In the 'I'll season your food with potassium cyanide' kind of way."

"Aww, she even cooks for you, how cute." Izaya felt vaguely sick, but failed to express any of this.

He stopped walking when he saw the face he knew from Shiki's text message in the crowd, a tall man with brown hair, who had just entered a smaller alleyway.

Izaya saw his chance right then and there.


	38. Chapter 38

"Listen, Kyouko, I gotta go. I'll call the twins later and tell them. Take care of them for me, okay?" Once more their roles were reversed. He was the one playing mother hen for his sisters, because their mother didn't really seem to care, or simply didn't take the responsibility that came with being a parent seriously.

"I will, don't worry." She said, her voice slightly low, as her amusement vanished and made way for something close to concern.

Izaya almost hung up, but he stopped when he heard her voice once more.

"Will you be alright?" She sounded oddly sad, as if she could feel that something was really wrong, even though she had dismissed it when he had directly told her that he was in trouble.

_He's going to hurt me, Mom. He's going to beat me and humiliate me and break me._ The lonely boy within Izaya cried, but his grown up self shook his head.

"I'll be just fine." He reassured her, even while he could practically taste the falseness of his own statement on his tongue.

It only served to make him to feel even more disgusted with himself. He hung up without further ado.

With unsteady steps, he approached the dark alleyway, his switchblade a comforting weight in his left hand, as he scanned the dirty ground which was littered with empty beer cans, cigarette butts and garbage bags.

Frowning at the smell, he felt uneasy knowing that the man couldn't have gotten far and that this alley led to a dead end. There were also no doors to the buildings on each side, so the man had obviously noticed him following him and was hiding somewhere in the dark.

Izaya clutched his weapon, knowing that he only had two choices. The first being escaping and revealing the undercover cop to Shiki, and the second being to unite with the cop, tell him a couple of things and get Shiki locked up in prison, probably for the rest of his life.

Something smooth and cold touched his temple and his breathing hitched and stopped completely, while horror instantly flared up within him, every inch of his skin crawling.

Within seconds, he had established where his attacker was situated, shrugging off panic in the blink of an eye and had drawn his switchblade, holding it to the side of the other man's neck.

The soft click of the safety being released was loud right next to his ear and he felt the slight vibrations on his skin.

"Listen, I just came here to talk." The informant said amicably, managing to grin shakily, though he had no intention of letting go of his weapon, or loweing it even an inch.

"I know who you are." The man said threateningly, though Izaya could hear uncertainty and nervousness in his voice. "You're the Awakusu-kai's sniffer dog."

"That's hardly a flattering way of describing my occupation." Izaya frowned just slightly.

"Oh?" The man said, unimpressed, although he himself didn't seem too impressive with the hand holding the gun against Izaya's head trembling obviously. "Would you prefer to be called Shiki-san's personal bitch?"

"That isn't an accurate description of my job either. As an undercover cop you should get your facts straight. Then again, you're either intellectually underpriviliged, or simply haughty enough to think it would be save to enter the only police station in this part of town in the middle of the day."

Izaya was intrigued by this man, because he was oddly unpredictable. The informant just had to find out if the man was too stupid, or too smart to be predictable.

"You've been tailing me?" The man asked neutrally. The gun was lowered just an inch.

"Obviously." Izaya chuckled. This guy was a freaking idiot. "Therefore~... I guess it's pretty much my decision whether you live or die."

He heard the other male's breath hitch deliciously, and the cruelty Izaya often managed to hide behind a too pretty face and too polite demeanor reawakened.

"I could take this as a threat and arrest you." The man said and slowly, a smirk spread over Izaya's face, even while the man still pointed his gun at him and was raising it yet again, hoping to intimidate the smaller man.

"But that would reveal your true identity to the Awakusu-kai, and I can tell you, Shiki-san does _not_ like being betrayed. And he can go to great lengths to make sure you'll _regret_ it for the rest of your life."

There was something haunting in both Izaya's words and gaze, but at the same time, besides the sickening amusement in his red eyes, the blank horror written across his face made him look haunted himself.


	39. Chapter 39

The younger man's red brown eyes shone brightly, though their glow very much resembled a flame that was about to die. They shone with the desperation of someone hanging by a threat and trying to claw their way back up, while the abyss beneath their feet grew larger.

It was at that moment, that Kimura Takeshi, a young police officer trained to work undercover, realized that Orihara Izaya was dead serious and that making light of the situation was his attempt at escaping reality.

"So, what's your plan?" He asked, lowering his gun and locking it, before shoving it into his belt.

"Oya, suddenly feel like hearing me out?" Izaya remarked mockingly, understanding that the other man had most likely realized that he was intellectually inferior to him and this was his way of surrendering. His knife lowered and vanished into his sleeve so quickly, that it was hard to catch.

"If Shiki-san already suspected me, I guess I have no other choice. Just know that, if breaking the law is necessary for your plan to be fulfilled, I'm out." The cop said.

"To think that you already believe I have a plan. Ah, people give me too much credit. I guess I should feel flattered." Izaya mused, though he was just relishing having the man right where he wanted, fearing for his life and hanging onto every word that left his lips.

"First of all, I want some prove that you're really a cop. Can't risk this being a set up to establish whether Shiki-san can still trust me." The taller man produced a badge in an instant and an ID. It struck Izaya as rather foolish for the cop to keep it so close to his body, where it could easily be found. To his great relief, it was real though.

"If you're expecting some elaborate master plan, then I guess it's rather disappointing for you, Kimura-san, to hear that what I intend to do can hardly be called a plan at all." The informant conceded casually, making the fact that he was for once telling the truth seem much less significant.

"So...?" Kimura asked, hoping the informant would get to the point already, while he couldn't afford being impolite and possinly pissing off the only person who could help him right now.

"Well, as I said, this is just something I threw together when I was barely conscious, so don't complain if it lacks strategic brilliance." He was humble while flattering himself all at the same time, though such contradictions were lost on the cop, who just wanted to know if there was a way out of this for him.

Izaya sighed dramatically.

"Basically, I'll tell Shiki-san that I found nothing that could point you out as a cop, you do your job and gather enough evidence on Shiki to put him away." It all sounded too easy and the police man looked at the informant in slight confusion while he waited for the catch.

"However, if I save your ass, you have to save mine." Quite literally even. "I need you to speed things up and arrest Shiki-san as soon as possible. I've had enough of being his stress reliever." They both knew what he meant.

The cop's eyes lit up suddenly and he seemed very excited for some reason.

"Your case would be the last nail to his coffin, Orihara-san. Since he has physically and sexually harmed you—"

"Woah, no way. I can't afford to get close to cops. I'd lose all of my clients' trust. Not to mention what would happen to my reputation if word got out that someone could actually harm me and get away with it. Especially after all the times I've managed to escape from Shizu-chan without a scratch."

Izaya softly crinched when he thought about the blond and the fact that said man already knew that the informant wasn't as invincible and untouchable as most people perceived him to be.

"It would make things a lot easier." Kimura said, in a tone of voice Izaya recognized.

He sounded like one of those annoying salesmen who came at random times of the day, ringing your door bell and trying to sell you a vacuum cleaner or some other household appliance.


	40. Chapter 40

"It'd be nothing more than a quick testimony and we'd have enough reason to put him away for quite some time. And this would buy us time to investigate all the other crimes he has commited or ordered his subordinates to commit."

"Yeah right, and next thing I know I'm in court, having to tell several people all kinds of humiliating things, while Shiki-san sits across from me and kills me with his eyes alone. Not happening."

It was a rather lame argumentation, considering that Izaya was usually perceived as a rather shameless person which, deep down, he wasn't, because although he managed to hide it well, he had his own kind of pride that ran very deep.

"Didn't expect you to fear Shiki-san that much. Seen as you're already betraying him right now. And after all, I think you're the one who would profit the most from having him locked up in jail."

"That's not the problem." Izaya grumbled, frowning sourly. He didn't like someone trying to manipulate him. He _always _had the upper hand in conversations, which naturally meant that he also talked more than the person he was talking to.

"It's not like you love the guy." The cop chuckled mockingly, as if he had any right to make jokes about a situation as grave as the one they had both gotten caught up in.

However, even while the police man felt smug at his own comment, he didn't miss the way every expression slipped from Izaya's face for just a moment, which wiped away the cop's amusement in an istant, while the horror in the informant's eyes intensified.

"Listen." And just like that, Izaya had snapped out of his shocked rigor and shrugged off any unwanted emotion. Though the fact that he was more serious now proved that losing his cool just for a second had left an impact on him. "I'll try my best to convince him that you're clean."

The undercover cop nodded, silently accepting that Izaya was just going to pretend like he hadn't just been speechless when jokingly asked if he loved Shiki.

"In turn, I need you to promise me that you'll rid me of him as soon as possible without involving me in the process. Can you try to keep these conditions? You don't really have much of a choice, unless you want to have half the yakuza trying to murder you and the police force having to protect you for failing at your job."

"I'll do my best, I guess."

"And another thing. If you decide to have a friendly chat with your police buddies again and get caught, then there's no deal and this conversation never happened, got that?"

"Yes." Izaya cocked his head to the side, throwing the man an evaluating look. Somehow, now that he had taken action, he was even more unsure about everything, because it just seemed way too easy.

That life was unpredictable was something Izaya had learned early on and it just so happened that things that seemed easy at first almost always turned out to be a real challenge later on.

Hell, life itself was so incredibly difficult that if it had been easy, he would have been convinced that something was going horribly wrong.

Without another word, he walked away, raising a hand over his head lazily, silently bidding the other man farewell, as he joined the crowd again, deftly evading a certain blonde haired high school student and his timid, dark haired best friend, as he hurriedly made his way back to his apartment.


	41. Chapter 41

It was very silent and unwelcoming and it took a moment for him to enter his home, which was not particularily well lit despite the huge windows.

He found an unfriendly note on the table, undoubtedly from Namie, which told him that she had gone home after waiting for him for hours, because he had 'not shown up and apparently not felt the need to at least inform her that he wasn't coming, so she wouldn't have to waste her time waiting on him', or so it said in her angrily neat handwriting.

For a moment, the sheer emptiness of his apartment was stiffling and the loneliness was almost too much to bear, as he walked towards his desk, losing his shoes somewhere along the way and falling into his swivel chair heavily.

Grabbing for his phone spontaneously, he dialled, the horrible, almost physically painful loneliness making him desperate.

"Hello!" Mairu's bubbly voice chimed and he waited patiently. "Hahaha, you fell for it! Kururi and I are currently not at home, so leave a message after the beep and we might be generous enough to call you back~..._beep_"

Disappointment engulfed him like cold water, soaking him through and through while he could not quite figure out why he felt the incredible need to talk to his sisters in person. Maybe because a part of him was scared of never getting the chance to talk to them again.

"Mairu, Kururi. I talked to Kyouko and she really wants to see you two. I've already booked a flight, tomorrow at 10 PM, so pack your bags." He made sure not to mention where the flight was going, since it was something his sisters knew and anyone else who might listen to the message would not be able to understand. "Make sure not to leave anything _important _in your apartment."

Of course there was no way for them to understand that there was a high possibility that their apartment would be broken into, searched and destroyed in the process.

"Don't tell anyone where you're going and I mean **anyone**, especially not Shark boy. Oh, and delete this message after you've heard it. Have a safe trip! Bye." He hung up feeling heavier than before.

He shook his head suddenly, as if it would get rid of the clenching feeling of sadness in his chest and didn't stop until he felt dizzy and black spots invaded his vision.

It was maddening, to see his usually organized life in shambles at his feet. Knowing that he would have to surrender himself to Shiki again tomorrow was maddening, and nauseating, and painful, and somehow he just felt like leaning onto someone and telling them about it, just to get at least a little bit of sympathy, since no one could really help him anyway.

"No, no, no, quit being so fucking pathetic." He whispered to himself, pulling at his own hair in a desperate attempt to make the unpleasant memories inside of his head vanish. "Pull yourself together, everything will be alright."

Letting his hand glide down his cheek in an almost soothing gesture, he got up, approached the couch and turned on the TV, watching random Anime series until the sun began to set.

After he could barely move anymore from being curled up in the same position for too long, he got up, vanished into the bathroom and cleaned himself obsessively, rubbing at his skin until it was flushed and started to burn unpleasantly. He got rid of all the bandages in the process.

Eating a quick dinner, which consisted of two slices of dry toast, he went to bed early, tossing and turning, as nightmares haunted him until dawn broke and he realized that he would never be completely ready for the next day to come.


	42. Chapter 42

The armed guards shot hostile looks his way, as he entered the Awakusu-kai's base in Ikebukuro some time before noon.

Anxiety rushed through him with every step he took, as he walked down the long hallway and descended the stairs to reach a rather familiar door, knocking before entering the cell he was confining himself to.

Shiki was already inside, he seemed to have waited for him along with a couple of his subordinates.

The room was barely furnished, an old looking wooden chair was leaning against a wall and a dusty black leather couch was on the other side of the room, so that there was a lot of free space and a closet stood right next to it.

"Orihara-san." He said with a nod of his head, his eyes simmering with held back passion, though it was not the kind of passion one would expect from a man who looked at the person he, in some deranged way, loved, but the desire for destruction.

"Shiki-san." Izaya acknowledged, keeping his thoughts collected and his voice from trembling, while his mouth went dry.

The other men stayed silent, though they snickered every now and then in a way that made Izaya want to punch them.

The Awakusu-kai executive approached, slowly and gracefully, half a head taller than Izaya so that the informant had to raise his head just a little to look at him, until they stood merely a few inches away from each other.

Izaya was torn between ducking, because he feared being hit and leaning up to kiss Shiki on the lips, which a huge part of him really felt like doing.

Instead, the older man grabbed both of his arms in a tight, bruising grip and shoved him towards the wooden chair, their bodies pressing together for one comfortable moment, before Izaya was forced to sit down on the hard chair.

Shiki got right down to grasping his belt buckle, which made Izaya flinch and shudder violently, and opening it, unbuttoning his black jeans and tugging them down as far as they would go, with Izaya in a sitting position.

"You're in a hurry today. Must've missed me." The informant said with a false smile, while his voice sounded too nervous to cast the illusion that he was in any mood to make jokes.

Apparently, Shiki wasn't either, because he silenced him with a stern look, saying that he had a _tight schedule_ and proceeded to lift the hem of the younger man's boxers, pulling them down just enough to be able to reach his private region.

Shiki ran a hand over him and unceremoniously closed it around him, stroking him lovelessly and watching Izaya twitch and tremble with a rather clinical expression.

The informant's breathing started to get heavy, bouncing off the cold, clean concrete walls of the cellar room and breaking the silence shamefully, while he closed his eyes stubbornly and bowed his head in surrender.

A light flickered, making an odd crunching sound that accompanied the undignified noise that left his trembling lips.

Shiki's other hand stroked his hair softly, keeping his bangs from falling over his eyes and hiding his expression, because they wanted to see the look of pleasure and pain written across his face, which was reddening, while his blood pounded loudly in his ears.

He was so, so _cold_.

The almost soothing pleasure kept his body feeling treacherously safe, while the knowledge of being _caught _and unable to escape stung sharply, fear crawling over his skin like a thousand bugs.

It wasn't even necessary to tie him up yet. His own guilt and shame kept him bound.

A particular rough and slow stroke had him squirming and biting down on his lip to keep in a moan. His body was still stupid enough to believe the familiar hand stroking him so intimately was trying to make him feel good, when it was the exact opposite.

The smell of cigarettes was strong and overwhelming, and he felt like the lack of fresh air would make him pass out - maybe he even hoped for it - while Shiki observed him closely, the glowing cigarette tucked between his thin lips, while his right hand stroked up and down the young informant's length in a falsely comforting way.


	43. Chapter 43

The humiliation was too much to take. Knowing that his body _liked _the other man's touch, while his psyche tried to retreat in horror, left Izaya completely speechless.

And his heart fucking hurt, because he knew that Shiki was letting him enjoy this only to inflict pain on him, when his body was still abuzz with pleasure and expecting more of it.

It made the pain exquisitely sharp and shocking, while it ripped the most delicious sounds from the informant's throat and made his face scrunch up in the most beautiful ways.

It was like being repeatedly dropped into warm and then cold water. The harsh contrast between pain and pleasure made the pain even more unbearable, but it also made him cling more desperately to the brief moments of pleasure he was granted in between.

Muscles tightening, trying to fend off the inevitable, Izaya pressed his eyes closed more tightly. The heat and pressure was building up and he wanted nothing more than to give in, to forget everything and not care about what had been and what was to come.

"Nghn..." He groaned in frustration, his hips thrusting upwards, because his body required more warmth and more friction. The movement made the wooden chair he was sitting on creak pathetically.

Shiki's left hand moved down the side of his head, fingernails raking gently over the informant's scalp, before his hand moved to cup his cheek, lifting his head. Izaya shuddered, his breathing turning into sharp pants.

His body was always so easily deceived by Shiki's fake gentleness. His soul was too, probably, as it continued to crave more of the older man's soft touches, still hoping that things would change and Shiki wouldn't hurt him, while his own rational mind laughed at him.

"Open your eyes." Shiki ordered bluntly and Izaya could do nothing but obey, in order to expand the period of time he wouldn't be in pain. There were four of Shiki's subordinates in the room and their hungry stares practically burned his exposed crotch almost as much as the shame of being seen this weak and vulnerable and only half unwilling.

His eyes dropped closed all on their own, as he instinctively tried to pull his face away from Shiki's warm hand. It tightened its grip, squeezing his cheek, blunt nails digging into his skin as a warning.

"_Open — your eyes._" Shiki hissed, pushing the informant's head upwards. His right hand stopped stroking the younger man, which caused Izaya to take in a shaky breath of emotional relief and physical disappointment.

Izaya obeyed hesitantly, looking into Shiki's dark eyes, while his own displayed a complicated diversity of the most different and contradicting emotions.

Hurt, lust, fear, pleasure, shame, longing, dread, hope, all swirled within Izaya's now deep red eyes.

"I want you to look at me." Shiki said, anger boiling just beneath an almost perfect, calm facade and showing itself through the roughness of his voice. He resumed his ministrations, admiring Izaya's reaction, the look of concentration that furrowed his brow, as he tried to suppress orgasm, which was building and building unbiddenly.

A smirk spread over the older man's face, thin and barely visible, but Izaya, being forced to look him directly in the eye, could see it clearly. By now, it was physically exhausting to press down the need to let go and relieve the unbearable pressure in his lower body.

Shiki could see all this, knew exactly what Izaya was thinking and that he was slowly losing the fight against his own body, which showed in the way his muscles twitched and his pupils dilated.

The older man breathed in, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, which had already shrunk to half its size, white and gray ash falling to the ground like miniature snow flakes every now and then.

Then, he pulled it out of his mouth, keeping it between his index and middle finger. The tip of the cigarette still smoked and it glowed an angry shade of red.

He stroked the side of Izaya's face, his tense jaw, moving up to his high cheekbones, keeping the cigarette close enough to his face so he could feel the heat coming off it, but without damaging his flawless, pale skin.


	44. Chapter 44

Shiki didn't dare to harm Izaya's face. It was a taboo he didn't break, no matter how angry he was, or how carried away he got once the informant's desperate yells and his wide, fearful eyes fuelled his desire to hurt him even more.

He had punched Izaya in the face once, and, while the blood trickling down from his nose had complimented the color of his eyes prettily, it had hidden some of the twitches of Izaya's facial muscles and Shiki was not satisfied unless he could see every small detail of the younger man's expression.

"You've been holding it in for quite some time now. Just let it go." Shiki whispered softly, like a caring parent who allowed his child to play some video games after studying for hours, running the tip of his index finger down the slight curve of the informant's nose, so that the side of the cigarette that wasn't burning also touched his skin.

Izaya moaned weakly, as his mouth dropped open, his jaw hurting from clenching his teeth together for too long. The hand stroking him sped up and grabbed him more tightly.

A few more rough tugs made him go completely rigid. Usually, Izaya had almost as much control over orgasm, as he did over his mouth, but it would have required a brief interruption of stimulation to control it.

"AHH!" The very moment Izaya reached climax, blinding pain assaulted him, the scent of burnt skin coming from his own lower regions, where Shiki had pressed the burning hot end of the cigarette against the small, sensitive patch of skin between his thigh and penis.

The pleasure was enough to involuntarily activate the relfex that caused ejaculation, but the pain swallowed orgasm whole, robbing him of the pleasure that should have come with it naturally.

It was another brand of cruelty altogether. More cruel, in fact, than dragging out orgasm or denying it completely, because it had been granted to him, but he had felt nothing but agony.

Over time, such experiences were bound to change something within the informant, messing with the fragile balance of chemicals in his brain and leaving mental scars.

Shiki smiled proudly into Izaya's contorted face, the younger man's rough breathing cooling his skin.

It had taken Shiki long to be able to predict the exact moment Izaya would climax just from looking at his face and there was a very, very small time frame, in which he had to hurt the informant, so that this form of torture would succeed.

More often than not, Shiki had failed, incorrectly reading Izaya's facial expression and administering pain too early or too late and Izaya only served to make it even more difficult by trying to hide his reactions and attempting to control his own body's reaction.

The older man pulled his right hand away from the informant's groin, but not before giving him another slow stroke that made him squirm, his breath hitching.

"Now, clean up after yourself." Shiki requested, shoving his slick, sticky hand in front of Izaya's face.

The informant's tired eyes looked at Shiki's hand, smelling his own release, which made his cock twitch in mild interest, before moving his face closer.

His cheeks burned with shame, and it was so utterly humiliating to lick Shiki's hand clean of his own semen like a loyal dog, that Izaya had to swallow down tears of desperation, along with the vaguely salty, bitter substance.


	45. Chapter 45

Shiki gave a nod to the men on the other side of the room and they approached Izaya quickly, like dogs that had been left off the leash.

Actually, they resembled dogs quite a lot, given that their IQ was probably on the same level as theirs, and considering the fact that they were now merely hormone driven creatures, wishing to do nothing more than to mate in the most animalistic way possible.

Fear was no word to describe what he felt when they started to touch him like an interesting, pretty porcelain doll they wanted to play with and break in the end.

All of his limbs trembled when they pulled his still clothed body up and dragged him towards the middle of the room, dumping him on the cold stone floor like a sandbag, right in front of the leather couch, where Shiki had taken a seat.

Fighting was pointless, this fact had been engraved so deeply into his mind, that the natural reflex that would have made him struggle and try to run didn't even instinctively kick in anymore.

Since Izaya was very interested in the human psyche, he had found out a lot about various psychological disorders, so much so that he became very aware of his own, many abnormalities. Although he had never felt the need to do anything about them, because, to tell the truth, he wasn't all that interested in himself.

Therefore, he knew that traumatic experiences could actually change the form of the brain and its chemical balance. And he suspected that something similar to this was happening to him, although he couldn't really estimate how much it would affect him once this was over, which it would be soon, hopefully.

"I thought—" Izaya stopped mid sentence, to swat away a hand that had been about to unzip his jacket. He almost missed, his hand off aim and twitching uncontrollable with fear. "...you wanted to know the results of my investigation."

The words came out shaky and made Shiki's eyes narrow as his grin widened.

"I believe that can wait." Somehow, Izaya had a really bad feeling about this. Usually Shiki made his job a priority, no doubt to make Izaya feel like he was less important to him than his work.

Everything about Shiki's neutral face seemed forced and practically painful to maintain and it deeply worried the informant. He hardly recognized the other man, so something had definitely made him more angry than usually.

Two heavy, tall men pushed him at the same time, pressing him face down onto the cold, hard ground.

Shiki sat on the couch and looked down into Izaya's face, grim and solemn, and keeping his cold eyes on him, even when the informant started struggling, kicking his legs, as they started touching, pressing and pulling, trying to undress him, while he slapped away the many hands unsuccessfully.

One of Shiki's subordinates pushed his hand into the informant's pocket, pulling out Izaya's switchblade and opening it.

It glinted in the light, and Izaya briefly stopped moving, feeling betrayed by how easily the object that had been accompanying for years was turning on him, or rather was _being_ turned on him.

His jacket was gone, he realized suddenly, and the blade neared his back, cutting through the fabric of his dark shirt and slicing through his skin, deeply enough to make blood bubble up and start to trickle down the sides of his back.

Izaya arched his back, letting out a shaky, pained grunt and glaring up at Shiki, without being able to break eye contact.

His already undone pants were pushed down and almost ripped off his trembling body, revealing already bruised skin, healing cuts and dried abrasions. Izaya had removed all the bandages last night.

A new sense of strength rushed through Izaya, making him punch and kick blindy, baring his teeth like an angry tiger.

"Tie him up." Shiki ordered coolly and all strength left Izaya when his wrists were tied together with his own belt, so tightly that they would surely bruise. 


	46. Chapter 46

Like raindrops, touches rained down on him, soaking him with disgust and the desperate need to escape, which was so vivid, it felt like his limbs would detach themselves from his body and run off on their own.

Although Izaya was selfish, he didn't ever really consider himself as valuable. He himself was nothing more than a container for information, his body a tool he commanded perfectly.

Usually, he always thought about the humans around him, his twisted love for them stemming from a hidden, sincere affection he felt for them, but not for himself.

But here, right now, stripped of both his clothes and his dignity, with blood rolling down from his back in thin rivulets that resembled tears, basic human instincts he usually disregarded made him care for himself and only himself.

He felt no grim satisfaction from seeing humans sink to such a low level, and witnessing this dark side of them.

He just wanted to get the hell out of here, and maybe it was this very fact that made him realize how much damage he had already sustained.

Ruin had crept in through the various injuries that had been inflicted on him and slowly destroyed him from within, like a parasite feasting on his pride, and confidence, while steadily growing bigger the more he lost control and let sadness and fear seep in.

"You've lost so much weight." Shiki said musingly, looking up and down Izaya's pale, thin body with wonder in his eyes.

There was no worry or pity in his words, rather, he seemed to feel a sense of accomplishment, seeing the physical evidence of how much his punishment was affecting Izaya.

The informant looked up at him, his eyes the shade of fresh blood, coming to live with the hatred filling them, even while a deep longing remained visible.

Izaya just wanted to break free and bite the smirk off those thin lips, bite and kiss at the same time, mingling hatred and love andget them both addicted to the bittersweet taste of betrayal and heartbreak.

He wasn't supposed to feel hatred, just like he wasn't meant to love one human being more than another, and somehow Shiki had sparked both of those feelings within him.

Shiki had become more important to Izaya than any other human being, which went against everything Izaya had lived for so far, and rendered all the time and effort he had spent on distancing himself from humans enough to not feel like one of them anymore, completely useless.

Blinding, burning pain filled him suddenly, and it took a couple of seconds for him to realize that the sharp scream that almost pierced his eardrums came from his own mouth.

Without any kind of warning or preamble, one of Shiki's subordinates had grabbed his hips and yanked him back, entering him dry and without preparation.

It wasn't like this was the first time he had sex without being prepared, but the lack of lubrication, which Shiki usually provided, added to the pain and made it unbearable.

His scream died down when his lungs began to burn from the lack of air, forcing him to draw in a sob like breath that made him choke on his own saliva, leaving him fighting for oxygen, dry heaving and coughing, while pain shot up from his lower spine and coursed through his veins like fire.

It was mind shatteringly painful, and he couldn't concentrate on anything for long enough to be able to distract himself, so it was with delay that he noticed Shiki turning his face up towards him with the tip of his clean, black leather shoe.

All eyes were on Izaya, watching him squirm and scream, while his face contorted with pain, his white teeth gritted, eyebrows drawn together, and although Izaya couldn't think clearly enough to figure out why, that fact was almost comforting, even though it should have been anything but that.

"Do you like it?" Shiki asked, watching Izaya and studying his face, and even though Izaya's vision was blurry with pain, he could still see how much this was pleasing Shiki. "Everyone's looking at you and no one else. To hold everyone's undivided attention is something you've always wanted, right?"


	47. Chapter 47

Izaya groaned pathetically, feeling the man behind him moving in and out of him quickly, the dry, burning pain getting more deep and stabbing, as his own blood served as a makeshift lubricant.

The words Shiki said repeated themselves like mantra, rythmically, as he clung onto them, their meaning engraving itself into his brain.

And after some time, it started to make sense, the words started to sound true to him.

Maybe he did like this. Maybe he was so starved of anything resembling affection, that he accepted the pain, if it meant that someone was paying attention to him.

Perhaps he had really turned into such a desperate, lonely, insecure mess, that he put up with this, just because Shiki was the only person he knew in this entire world who felt something like love for him, no matter how twisted or destructive it was.

He turned his head to the side in bitter shame, unable to respond while he struggled adamantly not to cry.

Self-hatred flared up within him, and although he wasn't unfamiliar with it, he had never let it consume him as much as he did now.

All those months he had suffered from Shiki's abuse, he had always been able to rely on the fact that this was against his will, that he didn't want this, and was therefore not to blame, and didn't need to feel all that ashamed of what was happening to him, no matter if he had provoked Shiki or not.

Only now did he realize that it was him who kept coming back, that Shiki never called when Izaya had told him that he would leave for good. It was always him who initiated contact, and it was him who seemed to be dependent on Shiki, and not the other way around.

And he let it all happen, certainly not willingly, but he also never really fought back, didn't try to make sure Shiki regretted treating him like this and he didn't try to get revenge.

He felt very sick, nausea building up within him and draining his face of all color, when someone, he wasn't sure who, snuck his hand in between his legs and grasped his length, stroking it with calloused hands, until it was half hard.

And how on earth was he supposed to believe himself that he was entirely unwilling, when his own body was doing everything to convince him of the opposite?

Surely he wasn't supposed to react to stimulation in this kind of situation, he wasn't supposed to feel anything other than agony, so why were there small stabs of pleasure intermingled with the constant bursts of pain?

Lazily, he raised his head enough to look at Shiki while he still struggled for breath, gurgling cries escaping his throat, while saliva ran down from the corners of his mouth.

Shiki got up from the couch slowly, raising himself to full height and watching with amusement as Izaya flinched, expecting to be kicked.

The older man then kneeled down in front of him, cupping both of this cheeks and smiling down at him almost gently.

"There, that's the look I want to see." He told Izaya, staring intently into his red eyes and watching them dull, turning a rusty shade of brown. "You're the prettiest thing I've ever layed eyes upon."

And even while he praised Izaya like this, the young man was still at his feet, with one of Shiki's subordinates brutally having his way with him.

Being praised and debased at the same time was so hilariously contradicting, Izaya felt like laughing until his muddled mind could no longer tell whether he was giggling or sobbing, while his sanity slipped out of his grasp.

The pain wouldn't let him emit any sound even close to laughing, though, so he smiled shakily, crookedly, with utter horror in his eyes, realizing that despite all the confusion and pain, he still felt just a little bit flattered. 


	48. Chapter 48

"Now then." Shiki said, dangerously calm. His grip on Izaya's face tightened just a little, enough to cause the inside of the informant's cheek to press against his teeth uncomfortably.

"Hurry up, we don't have a lot of time left until the others arrive." This time, Shiki was talking to his subordinate, who was grunting rythmically, while his thrusts lost rythm, making it even more unbearable for Izaya, because he didn't even know when to expect another stab of pain.

"We have a special guest today, you see." Shiki whispered, forcing Izaya to look up at him, while his subordinate finished and the informant almost vomited, as he felt warm liquid fill him. "I know for a fact that you're familiar with him."

There was no need to hide either his confusion or dread, Shiki knew him enough to recognize them just from the irregular pattern of his breathing, so Izaya didn't even bother trying.

Shiki was very close to Izaya, suddenly, his face only inches from Izaya's, so that their noses almost touched, and for one hallucinogenic moment, the informant thought that Shiki was going to kiss him.

He realized rather suddenly, just how _badly_ he wanted the older man's affection, no matter if it was real or not, and how much he actually _missed_ Shiki, or the way Shiki had been before things had started to get out of hand, even while the man was right next to him.

Shiki's breathing was slightly shaky as it fanned over Izaya's lips, making it inescapably clear, that the older man was aroused, especially when he guided the informant's head between his legs, so that his nose touched the bulging, white material.

"Think you can help me out with that?" Shiki asked almost neutrally, making it rather obvious that Izaya had no say in the matter anyway.

With his hands tied, Izaya could only try to open the zipper with his teeth, while Shiki unbottened his own pants with one hand, and lit another cigarette with the other.

Taking a long drag, he breathed out and blew the smoke right at Izaya, the scent filling Izaya's nose and forever tying the smell of tobacco to this very moment.

The older man's hand moved to the back of Izaya's head, his fingers grabbing hold of the other's dark hair and pushing his head forward, while the informant opened his mouth obediently.

Just then, Izaya felt another set of hands on the small of his back, and he screamed around the hard flesh in his mouth, causing Shiki to groan deeply, the vibrations adding to his pleasure, as he was penetrated forcefully once more.

Blinded by pain, the informant closed his eyes and lightly bit down, causing Shiki to tug at his hair painfully.

"Watch the teeth." The older man growled warningly, before moving Izaya's head back and forth.

Despite the pain and the humiliation, there was only one thing Izaya could concentrate on, and that was the _visitor_ Shiki had mentioned.

Just from the older man's grim satisfaction, Izaya could tell that this couldn't mean anything good for the informant, and it worried him immensely.

Fingernails dug into his scalp, pulling him forward forcefully so that he almost choked, and he couldn't really tell whether the slightly salty, sour taste in his mouth came from Shiki's precum, or his own stomach acid making its way up his esophagus.

Judging from the way Shiki's lips clenched around the cigarette with so much force that it began to tremble, it was the former, and Izaya hollowed his cheeks, hoping to end this quickly.

Both Shiki and Izaya knew though, that there was one thing missing, that there was only one thing that could push the older man over the edge.

And Izaya's insides clenched up and felt like they were coming to life, as the Awakusu-kai executive removed the cigarette from his mouth with a trembling hand.

His palm cupping Izaya's cheek, Shiki pressed the burning hot cigarette against the sensitive spot on the informant's neck, which just a couple of months ago, he used to kiss and suck to give the younger man pleasure.

Predictably, the informant cried out in pain and his scream was the sole reason Shiki found release.


	49. Chapter 49

As soon as he was done, the older man ceased all contact with his _lover_, going as far as to drop the cigarette he had still been pressing against the burnt spot on Izaya's neck, as if it was going to poison him, as he rebuttoned his pants and moved back to sit on the couch.

Izaya squirmed and dry heaved, a thin trail of saliva and semen escaping from the corner of his mouth, his body pressing against the hard, cold floor, making him feel increasingly numb and therefore all the more aware of the feeling of his insides being torn apart.

He could feel blood run down his inner thighs, though that wasn't really a sensation he wanted to concentrate on, and it was hardly strong enough to distract him from pain.

He desperately needed something to hold onto, so he wouldn't drown in the sea of pain, whose current was trying to pull him under and wash away his sanity, carrying it to the same place his confidence and dignity had gone, a place where he would never be able to get it back.

Izaya was very aware of the fact that he was close to his limit, that he was already starting to come undone, and it angered him immensely, that there was a part of his mind, his soul, that he could not control, a part of him that was weak and stayed that way.

He was angry _at himself_, for not being able to bear this, instead of hating Shiki for putting him into this situation in the first place.

Fighting to keep his eyes focused, the informant looked up at Shiki almost needily, finding the space between them all too wide, and wishing for nothing more than one small kiss, because he was hurting and he never had a mother to kiss the pain away when he fell as a kid.

And it didn't matter that Shiki himself was the source of pain and that one word from him could have stopped everything, Izaya was convinced that he needed the older man's presence more than for him to stop hurting him.

Because if Shiki were to stop this, there would be nothing left, and the fear of being dropped, of being cast aside like an outdated, boring toy was so great that the informant was willing to go through hell so it wouldn't happen.

The relief Izaya felt when the man using him finally stopped and left his body had him feeling dizzy, taking a deep, shuddering breath, as if he had been suffocating and had suddenly regained breath, as he lay on his side limbly.

For a moment, he forgot all about what might be awaiting him, because no one was touching him or coming close with the intention of laying their grubby hands on him.

"About that assignment I gave you the other day." Shiki said matter of factly, as if the person he was talking to was just another one of his suit wearing business partners, and not a man he loved and tried to destroy for the exact same reason. "What did you find out?"

The young, dark haired man managed to curl up and roll around so that he could at least kneel, supporting his weight with his calves.

There was a short moment of doubt, horror filling him up at the prospect of lying to Shiki and how the older man would punish him for it if he found out.

Maybe he would even go as far as to kill him.

"He looks clean to me." Izaya said, never having had so much trouble uttering a lie. He always hid behind a veil of lies, making sure no one could peek through it and see what was behind it, because he couldn't afford to be vulnerable.

"Really." Shiki inquired and something within Izaya froze. There was no going back now, he had lied to the Awakusu-kai executive.

And a part of him was starting to regret it, sirens going off in his own head and warning him, because he knew that he had made a mistake long before Shiki looked at him with eyes that were colder than ever and seemed to see right into his head.

The informant was sure his heart was going to explode, because he knew that he had been caught, Shiki didn't even need to say anything, and somehow, Izaya almost wished for the older man to say something, _anything_, because the silence was _killing_ him.

A knock cut through the suffocating hush and the heavy door opened a second later.

Two men clad in black entered, dragging someone behind them who was struggling immensely, and when Izaya recognized the person, his heart stopped for just a second. 


	50. Chapter 50

"We found him snooping around your office, trying to break open your desk's drawers, boss." The man was dropped in front of Shiki, his fear filled face already bruised from being hit on the way here.

"Good work." Shiki said coldly, gazing at the traitor and then at Izaya, the other traitor, looking from one guilt stricken face to the next.

Right next to him kneeled none other than the undercover cop Izaya had been foolish enough to strike a bargain with.

The man turned his face towards the informant, taking in his state of undress and the injuries on his body, humiliation crushing down on Izaya, while he wiped his own chin and mouth clean. There was pity in the other man's gaze and that only made being looked at even harder to bear.

This was something between him and Shiki and the fact that the Awakusu-kai executive had let some of his loyal subordinates watch, and after some time, participate, had already been almost too much to take.

His aggressor's laughter and comments were easier to bear than those devastated, pitying looks someone who wasn't involved threw him when they found out.

Because he didn't want pity, and damn sure didn't deserve it, and he felt so much better thinking that he had brought this on himself, instead of pitying himself and feeling like he was the victim here.

"Are you absolutely sure that he's clean, Informant-san?" Shiki asked, eyebrows raised, which accentuated the scar on his forehead and made him look even more intimidating.

The informant's face was stiff and tense, keeping a poker face Shiki could see through any day.

There was nothing he could say to at least get himself out of trouble.

Shiki knew that Izaya was far too competent to make mistakes like this, so if the informant were to use that excuse, Shiki was sure to only get angrier.

It was impossible to lie his way out of this situation, that much was clear.

Now all he could really do was take the punishment like a man and regret silently.

The Awakusu-kai executive sighed, like a teacher who couldn't get his students to listen to him and stared down at them, his dark gaze promising something far worse than detention.

"Listen, Shiki-san, this is all a misunderstanding. I've never even met him in person." The undercover cop gestured towards Izaya, unwilling to look at the damage that had been done to the informant, because it only futher confirmed that he was not going to leave here unscathed.

"I guess you met up with Orihara-san's long lost twin brother in that alley then, _Kimura-san_." Shiki said mockingly, though his cold eyes showed no amusement and kept on flitting towards Izaya. Despite all the cold hatred and resentment, the informant could still see a small flicker of hurt in them.

Izaya instantly knew how Shiki had found out about their meeting. Some sort of recording device had most likely been slipped into the cop's clothing without him noticing.

"You see, Kimura-san, it's just as Orihara-san said. I _do not_ like being betrayed. And I'm not a very forgiving person either."

The left over subordinates exchanged knowing looks and cackled smugly, relishing in the feeling of superiority.

"Normally, I'd just _kill_—" Both Izaya and the undercover cop flinched violently and paled, though in Izaya's case that seemed almost impossible. "the traitor, but the fact that there's two of you makes it more difficult than that, because killing two people seems a little excessive, don't you agree?"

"Shiki-san..." Izaya all but whimpered, his eyes searching the older man's, his breath catching when he saw the borderline insane amusement in Shiki's gaze.

"Don't interrupt our conversation, Orihara-san." Shiki sounded like a parent telling his kid not to interrupt adults when they were talking and barely deigned to look at the informant.

"I feel I should ask you who ordered you to investigate me, Kimura-san, so I can take care of them." The cop seemed to deflate, lowering his head and shaking his head a little.

"I wasn't ordered to investigate you." He whispered lowly, running trembling hands through his hair.

"What was that, Kimura-san?" Shiki asked, even though he had heard the cop the first time.

"I said I wasn't ordered to investigate you." Kimura repeated more loudly, gaining just a little courage as he looked the Awakusu-kai executive dead in the face with rage in his eyes.

"Why did you feel the need to intrude on my work then?" With his hands folded, Shiki's _I'm going to hear you out and then decide whether I'm going to murder you or not_ act was rather convincing.

"My brother." Kimura muttered, his voice trembling not with fear this time, but with anger.


	51. Chapter 51

"My big brother got involved with you. He borrowed some money from your group because his house had burnt down, he had no insurance and he couldn't let his pregnant wife and his little daughter live on the streets."

"Oh, is that something you were aware of, Informant-san?" Shiki asked, showing no sliver of sympathy, his face stony and unmoving.

Izaya shook his head. If he had known that the cop didn't even have back up and was in this only because of personal reasons, he would have never relied on him.

"He couldn't pay you back, so some of your dogs came to his new home one day and shot him in front of his wife and kid." Kimura's clenched fists were shaking with fury and Izaya half expected him to get up from his kneeling position and attack Shiki head on.

"That does not sound like the kind of operation I'd be in charge of." Shiki retorted. "I'm not involved in such mindless executions."

"That doesn't make it any less your fault." Kimura insisted heatedly.

"Believe whatever you want." Shiki said with finality in his voice. "I have no intention of apologizing for something I was most likely not responsible for. And even if I was, I don't feel guilty."

Shiki's gaze swept past Izaya and then settled on the quiet informant, promising danger.

"How about we lighten the mood with a little game." Shiki suggested, looking at the younger man apparently causing him to come up with an idea sick enough to put a smile on his face.

The cop was silently killing Shiki with his eyes alone, his fragile psyche unable to make him feel scared and angry all at the same time.

"You see, Orihara-san is very fond of games." The white clad man said almost lovingly as he got up, pulling a dull black gun out of his pocket. "I'm sure he is very bored by now."

With a trained, almost lazy movement, Shiki held the gun, looking so comfortable while carrying an object that could kill, that it looked more like an accessory, like a fancy watch, or a nice ring meant to accentuate his handsome face.

Shiki fell into a lazy stroll, his steps halting when he was right in front of Izaya.

_He is going to shoot me._

The informant tensed, body convulsing, as waves of fear and sheer disbelief washed through him, leaving his mind empty.

"Give me your hand." Shiki commanded and Izaya was just so incredibly exhausted, he complied, raising both hands because they were still tied together with his own belt, his mind blank, a deep fatigue spreading through him and making him want to just drop to the floor and sleep.

The feeling of Shiki's fingers brushing his was surpisingly vivid, and his hand curled pathetically in a vain attempt to feel more of the older man's skin as his wrists were freed.

If he was going to die, if Shiki was going to kill him, then the thought of holding his hand while dying was something he welcomed, simply out of the desperation that awoke within him when he thought of dying alone, cold and abandoned.

A cold, smooth object was dropped into his hand, it was heavier than expected and he almost let it glide to the ground, not caring what it was, just vaguely disappointed that Shiki's touch was gone, while he waited in resignation.

Waited for the loud crash, the feeling of a bullet tearing its way through his skin, through his flesh and wrap him in a blanket of coldness, as death claimed him.


	52. Chapter 52

A harsh shove made him reopen his eyes, never having noticed that he had closed them. He was completely convinced that he was hallucinating when he saw the gun in his own hand, glinting in the dim light, as if it was smiling up at him, cold and deadly, baring its fangs.

"Now, let's play a really interesting game." Shiki drawled, feeling Izaya's shocked gaze settle on him, and the informant wondered, which one was more deadly, the gun, or Shiki himself.

"The rules are simple. We have two traitors. One of them gets a gun and has one minute to either kill the other traitor or himself. If he can't decide in 60 seconds, one of my boys—" He nodded towards one of his subordinates, who readied his weapon. "will shoot him and the other traitor is spared. Any questions?"

Aside from the fact that Izaya didn't trust his voice to even try to talk, he didn't need to ask any questions, because he understood the heavy burden that had been put onto his shoulders by giving him the gun.

"You have 60 seconds starting now." Shiki announced, still standing next to Izaya, towering above him and observing how the informant would react to having to kill someone in order to survive.

Izaya looked at the trembling man just a few feet away from him, looked at the fear that turned his rather young face into a grimace of anguish he might have found interesting or entertaining had the situation been different. The way those eyes shone with light and life made it such a horrible, nauseating thought that one tiny movement of his finger could turn that warm, flexible body into a cold, ridig, lifeless puppet.

In those eyes, he saw the desire for a future, saw the man thinking about things he still wanted to do, people he left behind, and just the frantic wish for a tomorrow that would have usually been taken for granted. And for the first time in his life, Izaya wished he couldn't look humans in the face and know how they felt, what they were thinking.

At the same time, those exact same thoughts rushed through his own mind, too quickly to really process, but still managing to fill him with an incredibly painful longing for life itself.

He wasn't ready to die, but he wasn't ready to kill either, and being thrown into a situation where he was forced to choose one of those two options, not to mention in no more than 60 seconds, threw something awry within his brain and shocked him so deeply, it would leave an inerasable imprint on him, in case he managed to get out of this alive.

The informantion broker hardly payed any attention to Shiki as he started to count down, and the gun was almost slipping out of his hand, fingers clammy and slick with cold sweat, which was settling all over Izaya's naked form, as if it could wash away the dread filling him.

Vision blurring uncontrollably, he looked down at the weapon which was pointing towards himself simply by coincidence, and his heart made a lurch, each thump ringing in his ears like a scream.

"30, 29, 28, 27..." Somehow, Izaya ended up looking up at Shiki, locking eyes with him, searching for something to reassure him, something to tell him that this was just a terrible nightmare he could wake up from.

"26, 25, 24, 23, 22..." Shiki continued counting mercilessly, lips twisting to form the words and curling into something that looked like a smirk no matter how Izaya looked at it.

With the light hitting the older man from behind, his face was in the shadow, the outlines of his head and his silhouette illuminated, standing above him like some sort of deity.

And then suddenly, a thought surfaced within his mind, an idea that was completely absurd, but it ignited a fire within Izaya's eyes, made his arm move, as he raised the gun unsurely, shakily, but not without purpose.

He hesitantly moved to aim the gun at Shiki, slowly, inch by inch, the weapon feeling heavier with every second that passed and every centimeter it got closer to giving him a chance of hurting Shiki.

The older man merely looked him in the eyes, confusion and surprise briefly flitting over his face, as he saw the wheels turning within Izaya's head, understanding what the informant was thinking, and challenging him to do it, to shoot him.

Shiki's voice didn't falter as he counted down the seconds, Izaya's resolve did though, caving in like a burning building, because if he couldn't shoot someone he barely knew, he most definitely couldn't kill someone he _cared about_.

"10.. 9...8...7—" Shiki was slowing down, a frown settling on his face, as he watched Izaya give up, hanging his head and tensing, trying to get ready.

"I-I...can't..." Izaya's voice was nothing more than a broken whisper. The sound of Shiki's subordinate releasing the safety of his own gun was obscenely loud, though it was nothing compared to the one Izaya was waiting for, the loud bang, and the crunching noise of the bullet ripping through his body.

Shiki was crouching behind him in a flash and his fingers wrapped around Izaya's hand almost soothingly, taking aim for him and pressing his index finger down, pulling the trigger.

It all happened too quickly for Izaya to realize. The noise of a gunshot being fired made his heart and every thought in his head come to a stop.

And then there was nothing but horrible silence that filled him through and through.


	53. Chapter 53

Blood, chunks of skull and brain matter splattered seemingly everywhere, leaving a bright stain on the boring, white wall.

And there was no sound besides the thud of a body falling down, twitching, trying to get back up, hands scratching the ground and grasping for something to hold on to.

It took at least 15 seconds for the body to still, brown eyes unfocusing and the raw fear and desperation leaving them entirely, until they were dull like cheap pearls, looking into the distance without seeing, endlessly searching for something they would never catch sight of.

Izaya's mouth was open in a silent scream, wide eyes dancing in their sockets, making the whole world tremble, just like his body.

His first attempt to breathe failed, and he choked, before suddenly, the barrier that had kept him from inhaling, from screaming, was gone and he took in a large breath that left him shuddering.

_He wasn't dead._

Relief crashed through him so forcefully that it shattered any composure he might have still been able to cling to, drawing choked noises from his throat as he exhaled slowly, savoring the simple fact that he was still breathing, while he kept staring in horror at the cop's dead body.

Slowly, the undefinable sounds coming from his throat turned into shaky snorts, and once his voice returned, into haunting, horrifyingly piercing laughter, a sound so broken and otherworldly, it made everyone's skin crawl.

Searing hot tears ran down his face without him even noticing, his giggles bordering on both sobs and screams, and it wasn't until his abdominal muscles burned from the effort - a feeling he welcomed, just because it confirmed that he was alive - that the laughter silenced and all that was left were the tears and the horror in his eyes.

"Did you want to fucking die?!" Shiki shouted near his ear, grabbing him forcefully and stepping onto the arm with which Izaya had held the gun, which he had apparently dropped, although he couldn't tell when.

"Why the fuck didn't you just kill him?! You're fucking pathetic!" Shiki's voice was loud, though Izaya could not concentrate on it at all, because there was too much weight on his arm, and he could feel it slowly giving in, could feel the bone slowly breaking and finally snapping in two, the broken ends grinding together.

Screaming in pain, Izaya fell forward and received a kick in the ribs from a black leather shoe.

"You're good for nothing." Shiki spat, calming down slowly. And the hand that touched Izaya's shoulder _trembled_ with both incredible fury, and fear.

The informant had almost suceeded in killing the person Shiki loved, and that was just unforgivable.

Some random person's life seemed to be more important to Izaya than the person that was most important to Shiki, which was Izaya himself. Almost, Izaya had almost _left him_ forever, he had tried to protect that filthy cop's life and not even stopped to consider what it would do to Shiki to _lose_ him, and it made the older man feel deeply betrayed.

Without caring that his subordinates were watching, Shiki got on his knees next to Izaya, lowering himself in many ways, and let concern show on his face openly.

With both hands, he turned Izaya around and held his head, shaking the broken arm and watching the brief grimace of pain displayed on the informant's pale face.

Endlessly, thick rivulets of tears washed down Izaya's face, his eyes a watery, clear shade of dark red, wide, unblinking and probably not really seeing what was right before them, because the blood they had witnessed had blinded him to anything else

Shiki was filled with an awe he had never felt before, because Izaya was nothing but a broken mess and he was so strikingly, unearthly _beautiful_ like this, the Awakusu-kai executive felt his eyes grow just a little damp.

"Leave." Shiki told his subordinates, his voice just a little scratchier than usual, holding Izaya so unexpectedly gently it emotionally hurt the informant, while everyone but the two of them left the room.

The older man tenderly cradled Izaya in his arms, for now incapable of continuing to hurt the other man, whose tears stained his entire face and ran down his temples into his soft, dark hair.

"You've never looked more beautiful." Shiki whispered in a voice that expressed so much affection, though it was obvious it was only because Shiki had been so scared of losing him, that he could properly show his love for him now. It was only a matter of time before he relapsed and went back to being insatiably angry.


	54. Chapter 54

Nothing really seemed to matter to Izaya anymore, because even though he was wide awake, he could barely follow what was happening, and he couldn't bring himself to care about what else Shiki had in store for him.

And when Shiki leaned down and claimed his lips in a salty, passionate kiss, Izaya's body enjoyed it all on its own, his mind having shut down, so that he could only surrender to the shocking intensity of being touched gently for the first time in _months_.

Izaya kissed back longingly, needily, desperately, licking back at Shiki's tongue, while soft, low moans left his mouth, skin heating up and body reacting uninhibitedly, so completely lost and at Shiki's mercy, that he could only act instinctively.

He could not think about just how sick and disgusting it was to do this kind of thing while a body was cooling in a puddle of blood only a few feet away, Izaya could only concentrate on the warm hands tracing his skin and caressing sensitive spots they knew by heart.

Besides, this was the closest any sexual act he had been part of in the last _weeks_ came to being consesual, so who was he to complain.

When Shiki entered him, the pain blossoming within him was almost as pleasurable as the hand that stroked his aching arousal soothingly, because it was _Shiki_ doing this to him, hurting and pleasuring him.

As long as it was Shiki, Izaya didn't care how much pain he was in from having the wounds inside of him tear open farther, or his broken arm scraping against the floor with each thrust.

Izaya just let it happen, without holding back his body's response and the groans and cries falling from his lips.

There was just too much pain and too much pleasure, the raw sensations racking his body and rendering him not only speechless, but incapable of moving, while a blush stained his cheeks, tears rolling down his face, and his eyes clouded over with a longing, love sick look.

Like an addict, he savored each second of this temporary high, oblivious to how much pain he was actually in and how much it increased every time Shiki's hips met his, joining them in more ways than just physically.

The tentative hand stroking his stomach and thighs made him tremble in ecstasy, more so than the hand rubbing his arousal, because it was such a gentle gesture that held a love and appreciation _no one_ had ever expressed towards Izaya before, and that thought alone caused more tears to slip down his face, his moan turning out choked.

Needless to say, he didn't last long under such considerate treatment, and he came fucking everywhere, Shiki's name on his lips, throwing his head back and looking directly into the lifeless eyes of the cop's dead body, though the intense pleasure blinded him completely and just for a second, cast the illusion that it would all be _okay_.

The cry that left his lips upon climax sounded just pained enough for Shiki to find release as well, grunting and burying his face in Izaya's neck, breathing in his scent and catching his breath.

Shiki kept stroking him until the last of his release had been squeezed out of him, prolonging his orgasm and overstimulating him at the same time, and the older man didn't stop until Izaya began to soften.

"I love you...and don't you dare forget it." Shiki whispered, his lips touching the shell of Izaya's ear as they formed this honey coated threat. It made the young informant only cry harder, shaking with soundless sobs.

Izaya's lips trembled, opening and closing several times, trying to express feelings he was not even sure of, and his voice refused to work, until he had found the right words.

"I—I'...m...sor-ry." For so many things. Not being able to tell Shiki that he liked him being one of them, but there was so much more he regretted, and he was too exhausted to really think about all of the things he blames himself for as he apologized.

Of course, this hadn't been the answer Shiki had been looking, _wishing_ for, and the feeling of rejection was bitter. He had accomplished something though, because Orihara Izaya didn't normally apologize _genuinely_ to anybody, and the older man could therefore deduce that he was in some way special to the informant.

But there was still something left within Izaya that kept him from breaking entirely, a stubborn part that made sure he stayed in denial and protected him from the ultimate fall, and that was to actually admit his feelings to Shiki.

And the older man would not give up until that small part, this last stitch that kept the wound from breaking open and overflowing with blood, was destroyed entirely.

Slowly, Shiki searched Izaya's hand with his, moving the broken arm once more, as he slipped the silver ring off the informant's index finger and, after looking at it for a few moments, put it onto his own right ring finger, where he should have usually worn a wedding ring, and would have done so, if he didn't disdain his wife so much that he never wanted to show to anyone that he, to some degree, belonged to her.


	55. Chapter 55

Shiki took Izaya's other hand into his, the rings bumping against each other in an almost inaudible promise of love and loyalty neither of them could probably keep.

When Shiki looked at him this time, the cold, cruel glint was back in his eyes, despite the gentle hand that wiped the remaining tears from the informant's glistening cheeks.

"Let's continue this game for a little longer, shall we?" Shiki suggested, feeling accomplished when Izaya's hand spasmed and his broken gaze silently begged him to stop.

"Since you're the one who's more experienced with playing all these games, it's only fair if I get a handicap, don't you agree?"

Shiki's hand fumbled around the ground for just a second, before finding the abandoned gun and grasping it, brushing it against the informant's stomach and watching him twist away.

"Let's play a little hide and seek and see how far you get with an arm and a leg that are useless for now." The cold tip of the gun was pressed against the middle of Izaya's right thigh and he couldn't breathe, couldn't even tell Shiki to stop this madness, he could only wait.

"What a pretty expression." Shiki mused, intentionally dragging out this moment where he could completely dominate the younger man, because no matter how he felt about Izaya, it was always a fight for dominance between them, always a competition, and as long as the informant refused to give in, Shiki would continue hurting him, and hurting himself in the process.

The gunshot was much less loud the second time around and it left him in a dream like daze, his vision being invaded by dark blotches and random patterns, while everything blurred.

And he couldn't feel anything but despair, when he saw the pair of feet growing smaller in his field of vision, approaching the door. Each step sounded like a small earthquake to him, with his ear pressed against the ground.

"Don't..." Izaya didn't recognize the voice that came from his own mouth. "Don't leave me...here."

Shiki stopped, his hand already grasping the doorknob, and turned slowly, looking down at him with no sign of mercy or pity in his eyes. He may as well have been looking at a pile of garbage, considering the harsh disgust etched onto his face.

"Please...don't—" Izaya's eyes filled with tears once more, and there was no strength left within him to even feel ashamed of this display of weakness and helplessness.

The older man snorted and Izaya could see his right foot twitch, as if Shiki could barely keep himself from kicking him.

"As if I was foolish enough to stay around a dead body long enough to be associated with it." Shiki remarked cruelly and it made Izaya come to a dizzying realization.

Since the Awakusu-kai obviously had no intention of getting rid of the body and the evidence that a murder had taken place here, they would surely abandon this base, meaning that it would no longer be off limits to other people, and that as soon as word got out, some curious people, maybe even the police, would come to snoop around.

And word usually got around very quickly, which meant he had roughly three hours to get the hell out of here before someone else was going to find him and obviously think that he was the murderer.

"Hide well, Informant-san. Because I will find you. How quickly is entirely up to you." And with these last words and a last cruel smirk, Shiki was gone.

The feeling of abandonment completely overshadowed the fact that he had been shot, and it was only after the heavy metal door had closed, that he realized that he was bleeding.

Warm liquid gushed out of the gaping wound on his thigh and the pain hit him so suddenly that he couldn't even seem to express it in any way. It consumed him entirely, traveling through his blood like liquid fire and overpowering the pain he was already in from having his arm broken.

For a moment, he felt like giving in to the exhaustion he felt and just going to sleep and possibly never wake up again, but panic seized his body upon realizing that he was in danger of dying.


	56. Chapter 56

Sweating and panting heavily, he gazed at the far end of the room where his coat was situated, which was also the location of his cell phone. He kept his feverish gaze on it, as he started to crawl with only his left arm and leg.

The cop's dead body lay in his way like an obstacle that seemed impossible to overcome, but Izaya had no time, he was losing blood and was in enough pain to pass out any minute.

Clumsily, with two of his limbs not functioning, he tried to make his way around the body, but ended up climbing over long legs.

He stopped briefly when his hand and knee touched something luke warm and firm, yet soft, and he had to turn his head to the side, everything spinning, his heart beating rapidly, as he noticed that he had touched the dead man's ankle unintenionally.

The rest of his trip through the room felt like a week long trip to a world filled with nothing but the crushing fear of not being able to make it. It seemed like ages had passed until he finally grabbed hold of the comfortingly familiar, soft texture of his jacket, shaking hands searching the pockets for his cellphone.

Laughing shakily in relief, feeling increasingly numb from shock and slow loss of consciousness, he pressed the device to his heart with a blood stained hand, like a dear friend he hadn't seen in years.

His fingers were slightly slippery with blood and perspiration, and he failed three times at deactivating the keylock, before the device flashed to life. The relief he felt made him tremble even more, as he navigated through the cell phone's phone book, until he realized something and abruptly stopped.

There was absolutely no reception down here.

His face scrunched up in utter sadness and desperation. Bitter tears filled his eyes upon realizing that he now had to choose between trying to climb a flight of stairs, or giving up and either dying or being found by someone and undoubtedly accused of murder. Technically speaking, he had killed someone, hadn't he? He had _killed - _shock kept him from completing that train of thought.

Later, he would have all the time in the world to feel guilty, when he could be sure that he wasn't going to die, or spend the rest of his life in prison.

He would have certainly been able to recognize and, in a grim way, _appreciate_ the irony of this situation, but right now, his mind was focused on nothing but survival.

Clenching his teeth, his vision hazy from pain, he decided to move, the door seeming endlessly far away, even though he would probably have to crawl only about 3 to 4 meters.

Fear gave him strength he didn't know he had and this time he crossed the room differently, crawling past the corpse's head, and trying his best to block out the sight of blood, and the gaping hole in the man's head, something white peeking out from between the bloody flesh.

In his head, he only begged and begged to be able to make it, to call someone to get him out of here, no longer even caring that someone he knew was going to see him in this condition.

Sure, he could have called a normal ambulance, but that would have meant being found close to a dead body by people who would undoubtedly contact the police.

And even if he told them the humiliating truth, Shiki and his subordinates were the only witnesses, and even if they hadn't been as loyal to their boss as they were, two of Shiki's subordinates would have had to admit to comitting rape if they told the truth, so it was obvious they would testify to their boss' and their own advantage.

When he had made it halfway through the room, he started to feel incredibly dizzy and he could barely keep his head up. He looked back from where he had come from and noticed the large trail of blood he was leaving.

Fuck, if the police were to investigate here, he was screwed anyway with all the evidence he was leaving, meaning that he wouldn't only have to hide from Shiki, but from the cops as well.

But for now, all these things didn't occur to him. He just wanted to live, just wanted to get the hell out of here and _forget. _Deep down he knew that it was impossible to erase what had happened.

He managed to move another ten centimeters. Then the pain just became too much for him to take, forcing him to take a break, barely keeping himself up on his left arm and knee and balancing his weight so that he wouldn't have to move either his broken arm, or his right leg.

And then, the neon light bulb above his head flickered and died with a crunching sound, leaving him completely submerged in darkness.


End file.
